UC-NRLF 


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IheLadyoithl 


By  the  Author  of 


BRARY 

/KRSITYOF 


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By  the  same  Author. 

MANY  CARGOES. 

THE  SKIPPER'S  WOOING. 

SEA  URCHINS. 

A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT. 

LIGHT   FREIGHTS. 

AT  SUNWICH  PORT. 


L 


HE    DENIED    IT    AGAIN,    HOTLY. 


THE  LADY 
OF  THE  BARGE 

By    W.    W.    JACOBS 

Author  of  "Many  Cargoes,"  "Light  Freights," 
Etc.,   Etc. 

ILLUSTRATED 


LONDON   AND   NEW  YORK 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS 

1902 


SECOND  EDITION 


XZ 
LZ 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  LADY  OF  THE  BARGE,    .  .  .       i 

THE  MONKEY'S  PAW,          .  .  .27 

BILL'S  PAPER  CHASE,         ....  .     55 

THE  WELL,        .         .         .  .  ....    79 

CUPBOARD  LOVE,         .,         *  .  .  .109 

IN  THE  LIBRARY,       -..,'       ...  ,  .    133 

CAPTAIN  ROGERS,        .         .  .  .155 

A  TIGER'S  SKIN,        -.          .  .'  ,.   181 

A  MIXED  PROPOSAL,    .          .  .  207 

AN  ADULTERATION  ACT,      .  .  .  233 

A  GOLDEN  VENTURE,            .  .  .  259 

THREE  AT  TABLE,     -;.^-  -?rr  .  .  285 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

He  denied  it  again,  hotly frontispiece 

*'You  villain !"  she  said,  in  a  choking  voice 18 

"What's  that?"  cried  the  old  woman 50 

Mrs.  Driver  fell  back  before  the  emerging  form  of 

Mr.  Bodfish 130 

Burleigh,  with  a  feeling  of  nausea,  drew  back  to- 
ward the  door 140 

Gunn  placed  a  hand,  which  lacked  two  fingers,  on 

his  breast  and  bowed  again 162 

"Don't  you  think  Major  Brill  is  somewhat  hasty  in 

his  conclusions?"  she  inquired  softly 230 

He    saw    another    tatterdemalion    coming    toward 

him   240 

"You  say  you're  a  doctor?" 244 

The  second  officer  leaned  forward 256 

"You  get  younger  than  ever,  Mrs.  Pullen," 268 

"We'll  leave  you  two  young  things  alone," 282 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge 


THE   LADY  OF   THE 
BARGE 


THE  master  of  the  barge  Arabella  sat  in  the 
stern  of  his  craft  with  his  right  arm  leaning  on 
the  tiller.  A  desultory  conversation  with  the 
mate  of  a  schooner,  who  was  hanging  over  the 
side  of  his  craft  a  few  yards  off,  had  come  to 
a  conclusion  owing  to  a  difference  of  opinion 
on  the  subject  of  religion.  The  skipper  had 
argued  so  warmly  that  he  almost  fancied  he 
must  have  inherited  the  tenets  of  the  Seventh- 
day  Baptists  from  his  mother  while  the  mate 
had  surprised  himself  by  the  warmth  of  his  ad- 
vocacy of  a  form  of  Wesleyanism  which  would 
have  made  the  members  of  that  sect  open  their 
eyes  with  horror.  He  had,  moreover,  con- 
firmed the  skipper  in  the  error  of  his  ways  by 
calling  him  a  bargee,  the  ranks  of  the  Baptists 
receiving  a  defender  if  not  a  recruit  from  that 
hour. 


4       The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

With  the  influence  of  the  religious  argu- 
ment still  upon  him,  the  skipper,  as  the  long 
summer's  day  gave  place  to  night,  fell  to  won- 
dering where  his  own  mate,  who  was  also  his 
brother-in-law,  had  got  to.  Lights  which  had 
been  struggling  with  the  twilight  now  burnt 
bright  and  strong,  and  the  skipper,  moving 
from  the  shadow  to  where  a  band  of  light  fell 
across  the  deck,  took  out  a  worn  silver  watch 
and  saw  that  it  was  ten  o'clock. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  a  dark  figure 
appeared  on  the  jetty  above  and  began  to 
descend  the  ladder,  and  a  strongly  built 
young  man  of  twenty-two  sprang  nimbly  to 
the  deck. 

'Ten  o'clock,  Ted,"  said  the  skipper,  slowly. 

"It  '11  be  eleven  in  an  hour's  time,"  said  the 
mate,  calmly. 

"That  '11  do,"  said  the  skipper,  in  a  some- 
what loud  voice,  as  he  noticed  that  his  late  ad- 
versary still  occupied  his  favourite  strained 
position,  and  a  fortuitous  expression  of  his 
mother's  occurred  to  him:  "Don't  talk  to  me; 
I've  been  arguing  with  a  son  of  Belial  for  the 
last  half-hour." 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge       5 

"Bargee,"  said  the  son  of  Belial,  in  a  dispas- 
sionate voice. 

"Don't  take  no  notice  of  him,  Ted,"  said  the 
skipper,  pityingly. 

"He  wasn't  talking  to  me,"  said  Ted.  "But 
never  mind  about  him ;  I  want  to  speak  to  you 
in  private." 

"Fire  away,  my  lad,"  said  the  other,  in  a 
patronizing  voice. 

"Speak  tip,"  said  the  voice  from  the 
schooner,  encouragingly.  "I'm  listening." 

There  was  no  reply  from  the  bargee.  The 
master  led  the  way  to  the  cabin,  and  lighting  a 
lamp,  which  appealed  to  more  senses  than  one, 
took  a  seat  on  a  locker,  and  again  requested 
the  other  to  fire  away. 

"Well,  you  see,  it's  this  way,"  began  the 
mate,  with  a  preliminary  wriggle:  "there's  a 
certain  young  woman " 

"A  certain  young  what?"  shouted  the  mas- 
ter of  the  Arabella. 

"Woman,"  repeated  the  mate,  snappishly; 
"you've  heard  of  a  woman  afore,  haven't  you  ? 
Well,  there's  a  certain  young  woman  I'm  walk- 
ing out  with  I " 


6       The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

''Walking  out?"  gasped  the  skipper.  "Why, 
I  never  'card  o'  such  a  thing/' 

"You  would  ha'  done  if  you'd  been  better 
looking,  p'raps,"  retorted  the  other.  "Well, 
I've  offered  this  young  woman  to  come  for  a 
trip  with  us." 

"Oh,  you  have,  'ave  you !"  said  the  skipper, 
sharply.  "And  what  do  you  think  Louisa  will 
say  to  it?" 

"That's  your  look  out,"  said  Louisa's  broth- 
er, cheerfully.  "I'll  make  her  up  a  bed  for'ard, 
and  we'll  all  be  as  happy  as  you  please." 

He  started  suddenly.  The  mate  of  the 
schooner  was  indulging  in  a  series  of  whistles 
of  the  most  amatory  description. 

"There  she  is,"  he  said.  "I  told  her  to  wait 
outside." 

He  ran  upon  deck,  and  his  perturbed  broth- 
er-in-law, following  at  his  leisure,  was  just  in 
time  to  see  him  descending  the  ladder  with  a 
young  woman  and  a  small  handbag. 

"This  is  my  brother-in-law,  Cap'n  Gibbs," 
said  Ted,  introducing  the  new  arrival ;  "smart- 
est man  at  a  barge  on  the  river." 

The  girl   extended  a  neatly  gloved   hand, 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge       7 

shook  the  skipper's  affably,  and  looked  won- 
deringly  about  her. 

"It's  very  close  to  the  water,  Ted,"  she  said, 
dubiously. 

The  skipper  coughed.  "We  don't  take  pas- 
sengers as  a  rule,"  he  said,  awkwardly;  "we 
'ain't  got  much  convenience  for  them." 

"Never  mind,"  said  the  girl,  kindly;  "I 
sha'nt  expect  too  much." 

She  turned  away,  and  following  the  mate 
down  to  the  cabin,  went  into  ecstasies  over  the 
space-saving  contrivances  she  found  there. 
The  drawers  fitted  in  the  skipper's  bunk  were 
a  source  of  particular  interest,  and  the  owner 
watched  with  strong  disapprobation  through 
the  skylight  her  efforts  to  make  him  an  apple- 
pie  bed  with  the  limited  means  at  her  disposal. 
He  went  down  below  at  once  as  a  wet  blanket. 

"I  was  just  shaking  your  bed  up  a  bit,"  said 
Miss  Harris,  reddening. 

"I  see  you  was,"  said  the  skipper,  briefly. 

He  tried  to  pluck  up  courage  to  tell  her  that 
he  couldn't  take  her,  but  only  succeeded  in  giv- 
ing vent  to  an  inhospitable  cough. 

"I'll  get  the  supper,"  said  the  mate,  sud- 


8       The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

denly;  "you  sit  down,  old  man,  and  talk  to 
Lucy." 

In  honour  of  the  visitor  he  spread  a  small 
cloth,  and  then  proceeded  to  produce  cold  beef, 
pickles,  and  accessories  in  a  manner  which  re- 
minded Miss  Harris  of  white  rabbits  from  a 
conjurer's  hat.  Captain  Gibbs,  accepting  the 
inevitable,  ate  his  supper  in  silence  and  left 
them  to  their  glances. 

"We  must  make  you  up  a  bed,  for'ard, 
Lucy,"  said  the  mate,  when  they  had  finished. 

Miss  Harris  started.  "Where's  that?"  she 
inquired. 

"Other  end  o'  the  boat,"  replied  the  mate, 
gathering  up  some  bedding  under  his  arm. 
"You  might  bring  a  lantern,  John." 

The  skipper,  who  was  feeling  more  sociable 
after  a  couple  of  glasses  of  beer,  complied,  and 
accompanied  the  couple  to  the  tiny  forecastle. 
A  smell  compounded  of  bilge,  tar,  paint,  and 
other  healthy  disinfectants  emerged  as  the 
scuttle  was  pushed  back.  The  skipper  dangled 
the  lantern  down  and  almost  smiled. 

"I  can't  sleep  there,"  said  the  girl,  with  de- 
cision. "I  shall  die  o'  frig-lit," 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge       9 

"You'll  get  used  to  it,"  said  Ted,  encourag- 
ingly, as  he  helped  her  down;  "it's  quite  dry 
and  comfortable." 

He  put  his  arm  round  her  waist  and 
squeezed  her  hand,  and  aided  by  this  moral 
support,  Miss  Harris  not  only  consented  to  re- 
main, but  found  various  advantages  in  the  fore- 
castle over  the  cabin,  which  had  escaped  the 
notice  of  previous  voyagers. 

"I'll  leave  you  the  lantern,"  said  the  mate, 
making  it  fast,  "and  we  shall  be  on  deck  most 
o'  the  night.  We  get  under  way  at  two." 

He  quitted  the  forecastle,  followed  by  the 
skipper,  after  -a  polite  but  futile  attempt  to  give 
him  precedence,  and  made  his  way  to  the  cabin 
for  two  or  three  hours'  sleep. 

"There'll  be  a  row  at  the  other  end,  Ted," 
said  the  skipper,  nervously,  as  he  got  into 
his  bunk.  "Louisa's  sure  to  blame  me  for 
letting  you  keep  company  with  a  gal  like 
this.  We  was  talking  about  you  only  the 
other  day,  and  she  said  if  you  was  married 
five  years  from  now,  it  'ud  be  quite  soon 
enough." 

"Let  Loo  mind  her  own  business,"  said  the 


io    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

mate,  sharply;  "she's  not  going  to  nag  me. 
She's  not  my  wife,  thank  goodness !" 

He  turned  over  and  fell  fast  asleep,  waking 
up  fresh  and  bright  three  hours  later,  to  com- 
mence what  he  fondly  thought  would  be  the 
pleasantest  voyage  of  his  life. 

The  Arabella  dropped  slowly  down  with  the 
tide,  the  wind  being  so  light  that  she  was  be- 
calmed by  every  tall  warehouse  on  the  way. 
Off  Greenwich,  however,  the  breeze  freshened 
somewhat,  and  a  little  later  Miss  Harris,  look- 
ing somewhat  pale  as  to  complexion  and  un- 
tidy as  to  hair,  came  slowly  on  deck. 

"Where's  the  looking-glass?"  she  asked,  as 
Ted  hastened  to  greet  her.  "How  does  my 
hair  look?" 

"All  wavy,"  said  the  infatuated  young 
man;  "all  little  curls  and  squiggles.  Come 
down  in  the  cabin ;  there's  a  glass  there." 

Miss  Harris,  with  a  light  nod  to  the  skipper 
as  he  sat  at  the  tiller,  followed  the  mate  below, 
and  giving  vent  to  a  little  cry  of  indignation  as 
she  saw  herself  in  the  glass,  waved  the  amo- 
rous Ted  on  deck,  and  started  work  on  her  dis- 
arranged hair. 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge    1 1 

At  breakfast-time  a  little  friction  was  caused 
by  what  the  mate  bitterly  termed  the  narrow- 
minded,  old-fashioned  ways  of  the  skipper. 
He  had  arranged  that  the  skipper  should  steer 
while  he  and  Miss  Harris  breakfasted,  but  the 
coffee  was  no  sooner  on  the  table  than  the  skip- 
per called  him,  and  relinquishing  the  helm  in 
his  favour,  went  below  to  do  the  honours. 
The  mate  protested. 

"It's  not  proper,"  said  the  skipper.  "Me 
and  'er  will  'ave  our  meals  together,  and 
then  you  must  have  yours.  She's  under  my 
care.'* 

Miss  Harris  assented  blithely,  and  talk  and 
laughter  greeted  the  ears  of  the  indignant  mate 
as  he  steered.  He  went  down  at  last  to  cold 
coffee  and  lukewarm  herrings,  returning  to  the 
deck  after  a  hurried  meal  to  find  the  skipper 
narrating  some  of  his  choicest  experiences  to 
an  audience  which  hung  on  his  lightest  word. 

The  disregard  they  showed  for  his  feelings 
was  maddening,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life  he  became  a  prey  to  jealousy  in  its  worst 
form.  It  was  quite  clear  to  him  that  the  girl 
had  become  desperately  enamoured  of  the  skip- 


i  2     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

per,  and  he  racked  his  brain  in  a  wild  effort  to 
discover  the  reason. 

With  an  idea  of  reminding  his  brother-in- 
law  of  his  position,  he  alluded  two  or  three 
times  in  a  casual  fashion  to  his  wife.  The 
skipper  hardly  listened  to  him,  and  patting 
Miss  Harris's  cheek  in  a  fatherly  manner,  re- 
galed her  with  an  anecdote  of  the  mate's  boy- 
hood which  the  latter  had  spent  a  goodly  por- 
tion of  his  life  in  denying.  He  denied  it  again, 
hotly,  and  Miss  Harris,  conquering  for  a  time 
her  laughter,  reprimanded  him  severely  for 
contradicting. 

By  the  time  dinner  was  ready  he  was  in  a 
state  of  sullen  apathy,  and  when  the  meal  was 
over  and  the  couple  came  on  deck  again,  so  far 
forgot  himself  as  to  compliment  Miss  Harris 
upon  her  appetite. 

"I'm  ashamed  of  you,  T>ed,"  said  the  skipper, 
with  severity. 

"I'm  glad  you  know  what  shame  is,"  re- 
torted the  mate. 

"If  you  can't  be'ave  yourself,  you'd  better 
keep  a  bit  forward  till  you  get  in  a  better  tem- 
per," continued  the  skipper. 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge    i  3 

"I'll  be  pleased  to,"  said  the  smarting  mate. 
"I  wish  the  barge  was  longer." 

"It  couldn't  be  too  long  for  me,"  said  Miss 
Harris,  tossing  her  head. 

"Be'aving  like  a  schoolboy,"  murmured  the 
skipper. 

"I  know  how  to  behave  7/ry-self,"  said  the 
mate,  as  he  disappeared  below.  His  head  sud- 
denly appeared  again  over  the  companion.  "If 
some  people  don't,"  he  added,  and  disappeared 
again. 

He  was  pleased  to  notice  as  he  ate  his  dinner 
that  the  giddy  prattle  above  had  ceased,  and 
with  his  back  turned  toward  the  couple  when 
he  appeared  on  deck  again,  he  lounged  slowly 
forward  until  the  skipper  called  him  back 
again. 

"Wot  was  them  words  you  said  just  now, 
Ted  ?"  he  inquired. 

The  mate  repeated  them  with  gusto. 

"Very  good,"  said  the  skipper,  sharply; 
"very  good." 

"Don't  you  ever  speak  to  me  again,"  said 
Miss  Harris,  with  a  stately  air,  "because  I 
won't  answer  you  if  you  do." 


14     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

The  mate  displayed  more  of  his  schoolboy 
nature.  "Wait  till  you're  spoken  to,"  he  said, 
rudely.  "This  is  your  gratefulness,  I  sup- 
pose?" 

"Gratefulness?"  said  Miss  Harris,  with  her 
chin  in  the  air.  "What  for?" 

"For  bringing  you  for  a  trip,"  replied  the 
mate,  sternly. 

"You  bringing  me  for  a  trip!"  said  Miss 
Harris,  scornfully.  "Captain  Gibbs  is  the  mas- 
ter here,  I  suppose.  He  is  giving  me  the  trip. 
You're  only  the  mate." 

"Just  so,"  said  the  mate,  with  a  grin  at  his 
brother-in-law,  which  made  that  worthy  shift 
uneasily.  "I  wonder  what  Loo  will  say  when 
she  sees  you  with  a  lady  aboard  ?" 

"She  came  to  please  you,"  said  Captain 
Gibbs,  with  haste. 

"Ho!  she  did,  did  she?"  jeered  the  mate. 
"Prove  it ;  only  don't  look  to  me  to  back  you, 
that's  all." 

The  other  eyed  him  in  consternation,  and 
his  manner  changed. 

"Don't  play  the  fool,  Ted,"  he  said,  not  un- 
kindly; "you  know  what  Loo  is." 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge    1 5 

"Well,  I'm  reckoning  on  that,"  said  the  mate, 
deliberately.  "I'm  going  for'ard ;  don't  let  me 
interrupt  you  two.  So  long." 

He  went  slowly  forward,  and  lighting  his 
pipe,  sprawled  carelessly  on  the  deck,  and  re- 
nounced the  entire  sex  forthwith.  At  teatime 
the  skipper  attempted  to  reverse  the  procedure 
at  the  other  meals;  but  as  Miss  Harris  stead- 
fastly declined  to  sit  at  the  same  table  as  the 
mate,  his  good  intentions  came  to  naught. 

He  made  an  appeal  to  what  he  termed  the 
mate's  better  nature,  after  Miss  Harris  had  re- 
tired to  the  seclusion  of  her  bed-chamber,  but 
in  vain. 

"She's  nothing  to  do  with  me,"  declared  the 
mate,  majestically.  "I  wash  my  hands  of  her. 
She's  a  flirt.  I'm  like  Louisa,  I  can't  bear 
flirts." 

The  skipper  said  no  more,  but  his  face  was 
so  worn  that  Miss  Harris,  when  she  came  on 
deck  hi  the  early  morning  and  found  the  barge 
gliding  gently  between  the  grassy  banks  of  a 
river,  attributed  it  to  the  difficulty  of  navigat- 
ing so  large  a  craft  on  so  small  and  winding  a 
stream. 


1 6    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"We  shall  be  alongside  in  'arf  an  hour,"  said 
the  skipper,  eyeing  her. 

Miss  Harris  expressed  her  gratification. 

"P'raps  you  wouldn't  mind  going  down  the 
fo'c'sle  and  staying  there  till  we've  made  fast," 
said  the  other.  "I'd  take  it  as  a  favour.  My 
owners  don't  like  me  to  carry  passengers." 

Miss  Harris,  who  understood  perfectly,  said, 
"Certainly,"  and  with  a  cold  stare  at  the  mate, 
who  was  at  no  pains  to  conceal  his  amusement, 
went  below  at  once,  thoughtfully  closing  the 
scuttle  after  her. 

"There's  no  call  to  make  mischief,  Ted,"  said 
the  skipper,  somewhat  anxiously,  as  they  swept 
round  the  last  bend  and  came  into  view  of  Coal- 
sham. 

The  mate  said  nothing,  but  stood  by  to  take 
in  sail  as  they  ran  swiftly  toward  the  little 
quay.  The  pace  slackened,  and  the  Arabella, 
as  though  conscious  of  the  contraband  in  her 
forecastle,  crept  slowly  to  where  a  stout,  mid- 
dle-aged woman,  who  bore  a  strong  likeness 
to  the  mate,  stood  upon  the  quay. 

"There's  poor  Loo,"  said  the  mate,  with  a 
sigh. 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge    1 7 

The  skipper  made  no  reply  to  this  infernal 
insinuation.  The  barge  ran  alongside  the  quay 
and  made  fast. 

"I  thought  you'd  be  up,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs  to 
her  husband.  "Now  come  along  to  breakfast; 
Ted  '11  follow  on." 

Captain  Gibbsi  dived  down  below  for  his 
coat,  and  slipping  ashore,  thankfully  prepared 
to  move  off  with  his  wife. 

"Come  on  as  soon  as  you  can,  Ted,"  said  the 
latter.  "Why,  what  on  earth  is  he  making  that 
face  for?" 

She  turned  in  amazement  as  her  brother, 
making  a  pretence  of  catching  her  husband's 
eye,  screwed  his  face  up  into  a  note  of  interro- 
gation and  gave  a  slight  jerk  with  his  thumb. 

"Come  along,"  said  Captain  Gibbs,  taking 
her  arm  with  much  affection. 

"But  what's  Ted  looking  like  that  for?"  de- 
manded his  wife,  as  she  easily  intercepted  an' 
other  choice  facial  expression  of  the  mate's. 

"Oh,  it's  his  fun,"  replied  her  husband,  walk- 
ing on. 

"Fun?"  repeated  Mrs.  Gibbs,  sharply. 
"What's  the  matter,  Ted." 


1 8    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Nothing,"  replied  the  mate. 

"Touch  o'  toothache/'  said  the  skipper. 
"Come  along,  Loo;  I  can  just  do  with  one  o' 
your  breakfasts." 

Mrs.  Gibbs  suffered  herself  to  be  led  on,  and 
had  got  at  least  five  yards  on  the  way  home, 
when  she  turned  and  looked  back.  The  mate 
had  still  got  the  toothache,  and  was  at  that  mo- 
ment in  all  the  agonies  of  a  phenomenal  twinge. 

"There's  something  wrong  here,"  said  Mrs. 
Gibbs  as  she  retraced  her  steps.  "Ted,  what 
are  you  making  that  face  for?" 

"It's  my  own  face,"  said  the  mate,  evasively. 

Mrs.  Gibbs  conceded  the  point,  and  added 
bitterly  that  it  couldn't  be  helped.  All  the 
same  she  wanted  to  know  what  he  meant  by  it. 

"Ask  John,"  said  the  vindictive  mate. 

Mrs.  Gibbs  asked.  Her  husband  said  he 
didn't  know,  and  added  that  Ted  had  been  like 
it  before,  but  he  had  not  told  her  for  fear  of 
frightening  her.  Then  he  tried  to  induce  her 
to  go  with  him  to  the  chemist's  to  get  some- 
thing for  it. 

Mrs.  Gibbs  shook  her  head  firmly,  and 
boarding  the  barge,  took  a  seat  on  the  hatch 


"YOU  VILLAIN!"  SHK  SAID.  IN  A  CHOKING  VOICE. 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge    1 9 

/ 

and  proceeded  to  catechise  her  brotheXaMTo  his 
symptoms.  He  denied  that  there  was  any- 
thing the  matter  with  him,  while  his  eyes  open- 
ly sought  those  of  Captain  Gibbs  as  though  ask- 
ing for  instruction. 

"You  come  home,  Ted,"  she  said  at  length. 

"I  can't,"  said  the  mate.  "I  can't  leave  the 
ship." 

"Why  not?"  demanded  his  sister. 

"Ask  John,"  said  the  mate  again. 

At  this  Mrs.  Gibbs's  temper,  which  had  been 
rising,  gave  way  altogether,  and  she  stamped 
fiercely  upon  the  deck.  A  stamp  of  the  foot 
has  been  for  all  time  a  rough-and-ready  means 
of  signalling;  the  fore-scuttle  was  drawn  back, 
and  the  face  of  a  young  and  pretty  girl  ap- 
peared framed  in  the  opening.  The  mate 
raised  his  eyebrows  with  a  helpless  gesture,  and 
as  for  the  unfortunate  skipper,  any  jury  would 
have  found  him  guilty  without  leaving  the  box. 
The  wife  of  his  bosom,  with  a  flaming  visage, 
turned  and  regarded  him. 

"You  villain !"  she  said,  in  a  choking  voice. 

Captain  Gibbs  caught  his  breath  and  looked 
appealingly  at  the  mate. 


2O    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"It's  a  little  surprise  for  you,  my  dear,"  he 
faltered,  "it's  Ted's  young  lady." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  the  mate, 
sharply. 

"It's  not?  How  dare  you  say  such  a 
thing?"  demanded  Miss  Harris,  stepping  on  to 
the  deck. 

"Well,  you  brought  her  aboard,  Ted,  you 
know  you  did,"  pleaded  the  unhappy  skipper. 

The  mate  did  not  deny  it,  but  his  face  was  so 
full  of  grief  and  surprise  that  the  other's  heart 
sank  within  him. 

"All  right,"  said  the  mate  at  last;  "have  it 
your  own  way." 

"Hold  your  tongue,  Ted,"  shouted  Mrs. 
Gibbs;  "you're  trying  to  shield  him." 

"I  tell  you  Ted  brought  her  aboard,  and  they 
had  a  lover's  quarrel,"  said  her  unhappy  spouse. 
"It's  nothing  to  do  with  me  at  all." 

"And  that's  why  you  told  me  Ted  had  got 
the  toothache,  and  tried  to  get  me  off  to  the 
chemist's,  I  s'pose,"  retorted  his  wife,  with 
virulence.  "Do  you  think  I'm  a  fool?  How 
dare  you  ask  a  young  woman  on  this  barge? 
How  dare  you  ?" 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge    2  i 

"I  didn't  ask  her,"  said  her  husband. 

"I  s'pose  she  came  without  being  asked," 
sneered  his  wife,  turning  her  regards  to  the 
passenger;  "she  looks  the  sort  that  might. 
You  brazen-faced  girl !" 

"Here,  go  easy,  Loo/'  interrupted  the  mate, 
flushing  as  he  saw  the  girl's  pale  face. 

"Mind  your  own  business,"  said  his  sister, 
violently. 

"It  is  my  business,"  said  the  repentant  mate. 
"I  brought  her  aboard,  and  then  we  quar- 
relled." 

"I've  no  doubt,"  said  his  sister,  bitterly ;  "it's 
very  pretty,  but  it  won't  do." 

"I  swear  it's  the  truth,"  said  the  mate. 

"Why  did  John  keep  it  so  quiet  and  hide  her 
for,  then  ?"  demanded  his  sister. 

"I  came  down  for  the  trip,"  said  Miss  Har- 
ris; "that  is  all  about  it.  There  is  nothing  to 
make  a  fuss  about.  How  much  is  it,  Captain 
Gibbs?" 

She  produced  a  little  purse  from  her  pocket, 
but  before  the  embarrassed  skipper  could  reply, 
his  infuriated  wife  struck  it  out  of  her  hand. 
The  mate  sprang  instinctively  forward,  but  too 


2  2    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

late,  and  the  purse  fell  with  a  splash  into  the 
water.  The  girl  gave  a  faint  cry  and  clasped 
her  hands. 

"How  am  I  to  get  back?"  she  gasped. 

"I'll  see  to  that,  Lucy,"  said  the  mate.  "I'm 
very  sorry — I've  been  a  brute." 

"You?"  said  the  indignant  girl.  "I  would 
sooner  drown  myself  than  be  beholden  to  you." 

"I'm  very  sorry,"  repeated  the  mate,  humbly. 

"There's  enough  of  this  play-acting,"  inter- 
posed Mrs.  Gibbs.  "Get  off  this  barge." 

"You  stay  where  you  are,"  said  the  mate,  au- 
thoritatively. 

"Send  that  girl  off  this  barge,"  screamed 
Mrs.  Gibbs  to  her  husband. 

Captain  Gibbs  smiled  in  a  silly  fashion  and 
scratched  his  head.  "Where  is  she  to  go  ?"  he 
asked  feebly. 

"What  does  it  matter  to  you  where  she 
goes?"  cried  his  wife,  fiercely.  "Send  her 
off." 

The  girl  eyed  her  haughtily,  and  repulsing 
the  mate  as  he  strove  to  detain  her,  stepped  to 
the  side.  Then  she  paused  as  he  suddenly 
threw  off  his  coat,  and  sitting  down  on  the 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge     2  3 

hatch,  hastily  removed  his  boots.  The  skipper, 
divining  his  intentions,  seized  him  by  the  arm. 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  Ted,"  he  gasped;  "you'll 
get  under  the  barge." 

The  mate  shook  him  off,  and  went  in  with 
a  splash  which  half  drowned  his  adviser.  Miss 
Harris,  clasping  her  hands,  ran  to  the  side  and 
gazed  fearfully  at  the  spot  where  he  had  disap- 
peared, while  his  sister  in  a  terrible  voice  seized 
the  opportunity  to  point  out  to  her  husband  the 
probably  fatal  results  of  his  ill-doing.  There 
was  an  anxious  interval,  and  then  the  mate's 
head  appeared  above  the  water,  and  after  a 
breathing-space  disappeared  again.  The  skip- 
per, watching  uneasily,  stood  by  with  a  life- 
belt. 

"Come  out,  Ted,"  screamed  his  sister  as  he 
came  up  for  breath  again. 

The  mate  disappeared  once  more,  but  com- 
ing up  for  the  third  time,  hung  on  to  the  side 
of  the  barge  to  recover  a  bit.  A  clothed  man 
in  the  water  savours  of  disaster  and  looks 
alarming.  Miss  Harris  began  to  cry. 

"You'll  be  drowned,"  she  whimpered. 

"Come  out,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  in  a  raspy 


24     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

voice.  She  knelt  on  the  deck  and  twined  her 
fingers  in  his  hair.  The  mate  addressed  her 
in  terms  rendered  brotherly  by  pain. 

"Never  mind  about  the  purse,"  sobbed  Miss 
Harris ;  "it  doesn't  matter." 

"Will  you  make  it  up  if  I  come  out,  then," 
demanded  the  diver. 

"No;  I'll  never  speak  to  you  again  as  long 
as  I  live,"  said  the  girl,  passionately. 

The  mate  disappeared  again.  This  time  he 
was  out  of  sight  longer  than  usual,  and  when 
he  came  up  merely  tossed  his  arms  weakly  and 
went  down  again.  There  was  a  scream  from 
the  women,  and  a  mighty  splash  as  the  skipper 
went  overboard  with  a  life-belt.  The  mate's 
head,  black  and  shining,  showed  for  a  moment ; 
the  skipper  grabbed  him  by  the  hair  and  towed 
him  to  the  barge's  side,  and  in  the  midst  of  a 
considerable  hubbub  both  men  were  drawn 
from  the  water. 

The  skipper  shook  himself  like  a  dog,  but 
the  mate  lay  on  the  deck  inert  in  a  puddle  of 
water.  Mrs.  Gibbs  frantically  slapped  his 
hands;  and  Miss  Harris,  bending  over  him, 
rendered  first  aid  by  kissing  him  wildly. 


The  Lady  of  the  Barge     25 

Captain  Gibbs  pushed  her  away.  "He 
won't  come  round  while  you're  a-kissing  of 
him,"  he  cried,  roughly. 

To  his  indignant  surprise  the  drowned  man 
opened  one  eye  and  winked  acquiescence.  The 
skipper  dropped  his  arms  by  his  side  and  stared 
at  him  stupidly. 

"I  saw  his  eyelid  twitch,"  cried  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
joyfully. 

"He's  all  right,"  said  her  indignant  husband ; 
"'e  ain't  born  to  be  drowned,  'e  ain't  I've 
spoilt  a  good  suit  of  clothes  for  nothing." 

To  his  wife's  amazement,  he  actually  walked 
away  from  the  insensible  man,  and  with  a  boat- 
hook  reached  for  his  hat,  which  was  floating 
by.  Mrs.  Gibbs,  still  gazing  in  blank  astonish- 
ment, caught  a  seraphic  smile  on  the  face 
of  her  brother  as  Miss  Harris  continued  her 
ministrations,  and  in  a  pardonable  fit  of  tem- 
per the  overwrought  woman  gave  him  a 
box  on  the  ear,  which  brought  him  round  at 
once. 

"Where  am  I  ?"  he  inquired,  artlessly. 

Mrs.  Gibbs  told  him.  She  also  told  him  her 
opinion  of  him,  and  without  plagiarizing  her 


26     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

husband's  words,  came  to  the  same  conclusion 
as  to  his  ultimate  fate. 

"You  come  along  home  with  me,"  she  said, 
turning  in  a  friendly  fashion  to  the  bewildered 
girl.  "They  deserve  what  they've  got — both 
of  'em.  I  only  hope  that  they'll  both  get  such 
awful  colds  that  they  won't  find  their  voices  for 
a  twelvemonth." 

She  took  the  girl  by  the  arm  and  helped  her 
ashore.  They  turned  their  heads  once  in  the 
direction  of  the  barge,  and  saw  the  justly  in- 
censed skipper  keeping  the  mate's  explanations 
and  apologies  at  bay  with  a  boat-hook.  Then 
they  went  in  to  breakfast. 


I  i 

The    Monkey's    Paw 


THE  MONKEY'S   PAW 


i. 


WITHOUT,  the  night  was  cold  and  wet,  but 
in  the  small  parlour  of  Laburnam  Villa  the 
blinds  were  drawn  and  the  fire  burned  brightly. 
Father  and  son  were  at  chess,  the  former,  who 
possessed  ideas  about  the  game  involving  radi- 
cal changes,  putting  his  king  into  such  sharp 
and  unnecessary  perils  that  it  even  provoked 
comment  from  the  white-haired  old  lady  knit- 
ting placidly  by  the  fire. 

"Hark  at  the  wind,"  said  Mr.  White,  who, 
having  seen  a  fatal  mistake  after  it  was  too  late, 
was  amiably  desirous  of  preventing  his  son 
from  seeing  it. 

"I'm  listening,"  said  the  latter,  grimly  sur- 
veying the  board  as  he  stretched  out  his  hand. 
"Check." 

"I  should  hardly  think  that  he'd  come  to- 


30    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

night,"  said  his  father,  with  his  hand  poised 
over  the  board. 

"Mate,"  replied  the  son. 

"That's  the  worst  of  living  so  far  out," 
bawled  Mr.  White,  with  sudden  and  unlooked- 
for  violence ;  "of  all  the  beastly,  slushy,  out-of- 
the-way  places  to  live  in,  this  is  the  worst. 
Pathway's  a  bog,  and  the  road's  a  torrent.  I 
don't  know  what  people  are  thinking  about.  I 
suppose  because  only  two  houses  in  the  road 
are  let,  they  think  it  doesn't  matter." 

"Never  mind,  dear,"  said  his  wife,  sooth- 
ingly; "perhaps  you'll  win  the  next  one." 

Mr.  White  looked  up  sharply,  just  in  time 
to  intercept  a  knowing  glance  between  mother 
and  son.  The  words  died  away  on  his  lips, 
and  he  hid  a  guilty  grin  in  his  thin  grey  beard. 

"There  he  is,"  said  Herbert  White,  as  the 
gate  banged  to  loudly  and  heavy  footsteps  came 
toward  the  door. 

The  old  man  rose  with  hospitable  haste,  and 
opening  the  door,  was  heard  condoling  with  the 
new  arrival.  The  new  arrival  also  condoled 
with  himself,  so  that  Mrs.  White  said,  "Tut, 
tut!"  and  coughed  gently  as  her  husband  en- 


The  Monkey's  Paw        3  i 

tered  the  room,  followed  by  a  tall,  burly  man, 
beady  of  eye  and  rubicund  of  visage. 

"Sergeant-Major  Morris,"  he  said,  intro- 
ducing him. 

The  sergeant-major  shook  hands,  and  tak- 
ing the  proffered  seat  by  the  fire,  watched  con- 
tentedly while  his  host  got  out  whiskey  and 
tumblers  and  stood  a  small  copper  kettle  on  the 
fire. 

At  the  third  glass  his  eyes  got  brighter,  and 
he  began  to  talk,  the  little  family  circle  regard- 
ing with  eager  interest  this  visitor  from  dis- 
tant parts,  as  he  squared  his  broad  shoulders  in 
the  chair  and  spoke  of  wild  scenes  and  doughty 
deeds;  of  wars  and  plagues  and  strange  peo- 
ples. 

"Twenty-one  years  of  it,"  said  Mr.  White, 
nodding  at  his  wife  and  son.  "When  he  went 
away  he  was  a  slip  of  a  youth  in  the  warehouse. 
Now  look  at  him." 

"He  don't  look  to  have  taken  much  harm," 
said  Mrs.  White,  politely. 

"I'd  like  to  go  to  India  myself,"  said  the  old 
man,  "just  to  look  round  a  bit,  you  know." 

"Better  where  you  are,"  said  the  sergeant- 


3  2    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

major,  shaking  his  head.  He  put  down  the 
empty  glass,  and  sighing  softly,  shook  it  again. 

"I  should  like  to  see  those  old  temples  and 
fakirs  and  jugglers,"  said  the  old  man. 
"What  was  that  you  started  telling  me  the 
other  day  about  a  monkey's  paw  or  something, 
Morris?" 

"Nothing,"  said  the  soldier,  hastily.  "Least- 
ways nothing  worth  hearing." 

"Monkey's  paw?"  said  Mrs.  White,  curi- 
ously. 

"Well,  it's  just  a  bit  of  what  you  might  call 
magic,  perhaps,"  said  the  sergeant-major,  off- 
handedly. 

His  three  listeners  leaned  forward  eagerly. 
The  visitor  absent-mindedly  put  his  empty 
glass  to  his  lips  and  then  set  it  down  again. 
His  host  filled  it  for  him. 

"To  look  at,"  said  the  sergeant-major,  fum- 
bling in  his  pocket,  "it's  just  an  ordinary  little 
paw,  dried  to  a  mummy." 

He  took  something  out  of  his  pocket  and 
proffered  it.  Mrs.  White  drew  back  with  a 
grimace,  but  her  son,  taking  it,  examined  it 
curiously. 


The  Monkey's  Paw        33 

"And  what  is  there  special  about  it?"  in- 
quired Mr.  White  as  he  took  it  from  his  son, 
and  having  examined  it,  placed  it  upon  the 
table. 

"It  had  a  spell  put  on  it  by  an  old  fakir," 
said  the  sergeant-major,  "a  very  holy  man. 
He  wanted  to  show  that  fate  ruled  people's 
lives,  and  that  those  who  interfered  with  it  did 
so  to  their  sorrow.  He  put  a  spell  on  it  so  that 
three  separate  men  could  each  have  three 
wishes  from  it." 

His  manner  was  so  impressive  that  his  hear- 
ers were  conscious  that  their  light  laughter 
jarred  somewhat. 

"Well,  why  don't  you  have  three,  sir?"  said 
Herbert  White,  cleverly. 

The  soldier  regarded  him  in  the  way  that 
middle  age  is  wont  to  regard  presumptuous 
youth.  "I  have,"  he  said,  quietly,  and  his 
blotchy  face  whitened. 

"And  did  you  really  have  the  three  wishes 
granted?"  asked  Mrs.  White. 

"I  did,"  said  the  sergeant-major,  and  his 
glass  tapped  against  his  strong  teeth. 


34     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"And  has  anybody  else  wished?"  persisted 
the  old  lady. 

"The  first  man  had  his  three  wishes.  Yes," 
was  the  reply ;  "I  don't  know  what  the  first  two 
were,  but  the  third  was  for  death.  That's  how 
I  got  the  paw." 

His  tones  were  so  grave  that  a  hush  fell  upon 
the  group. 

"If  you've  had  your  three  wishes,  it's  no 
good  to  you  now,  then,  Morris,"  said  the  old 
man  at  last.  "What  do  you  keep  it  for?" 

The  soldier  shook  his  head.  "Fancy,  I  sup- 
pose," he  said,  slowly.  "I  did  have  some  idea 
of  selling  it,  but  I  don't  think  I  will.  It  has 
caused  enough  mischief  already.  Besides,  peo- 
ple won't  buy.  They  think  it's  a  fairy  tale; 
some  of  them,  and  those  who  do  think  any- 
thing of  it  want  to  try  it  first  and  pay  me  after- 
ward." 

"If  you  could  have  another  three  wishes," 
said  the  old  man,  eyeing  him  keenly,  "would 
you  have  them  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  other.  "I  don't 
know." 

He  took  the  paw,  and  dangling  it  between 


The  Monkey's  Paw       35 

his  forefinger  and  thumb,  suddenly  threw  it 
upon  the  fire.  White,  with  a  slight  cry, 
stooped  down  and  snatched  it  off. 

"Better  let  it  burn,"  said  the  soldier,  sol- 
emnly. 

"If  you  don't  want  it,  Morris,"  said  the 
other,  "give  it  to  me." 

"I  won't,"  said  his  friend,  doggedly.  "I 
threw  it  on  the  fire.  If  you  keep  it,  don't 
blame  me  for  what  happens.  Pitch  it  on  the 
fire  again  like  a  sensible  man." 

The  other  shook  his  head  and  examined  his 
new  possession  closely.  "How  do  you  do  it?" 
he  inquired. 

"Hold  it  up  in  your  right  hand  and  wish 
aloud,"  said  the  sergeant-major,  "but  I  warn 
you  of  the  consequences." 

"Sounds  like  the  Arabian  Nights"  said 
Mrs.  White,  as  she  rose  and  began  to  set  the 
supper.  "Don't  you  think  you  might  wish  for 
four  pairs  of  hands  for  me?" 

Her  husband  drew  the  talisman  from  pocket, 
and  then  all  three  burst  into  laughter  as  the 
sergeant-major,  with  a  look  of  alarm  on  his 
face,  caught  him  by  the  arm. 


36     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"If  you  must  wish,"  he  said,  gruffly,  "wish 
for  something  sensible." 

Mr.  White  dropped  it  back  in  his  pocket, 
and  placing  chairs,  motioned  his  friend  to  the 
table.  In  the  business  of  supper  the  talisman 
was  partly  forgotten,  and  afterward  the  three 
sat  listening  in  an  enthralled  fashion  to  a  sec- 
ond instalment  of  the  soldier's  adventures  in 
India. 

"If  the  tale  about  the  monkey's  paw  is  not 
more  truthful  than  those  he  has  been  telling 
us,"  said  Herbert,  as  the  door  closed  behind 
their  guest,  just  in  time  for  him  to  catch  the 
last  train,  "we  sha'nt  make  much  out  of  it." 

"Did  you  give  him  anything  for  it,  father?" 
inquired  Mrs.  White,  regarding  her  husband 
closely. 

"A  trifle,"  said  he,  colouring  slightly.  "He 
didn't  want  it,  but  I  made  him  take  it.  And 
he  pressed  me  again  to  throw  it  away." 

"Likely,"  said  Herbert,  with  pretended 
horror.  "Why,  we're  going  to  be  rich,  and 
famous  and  happy.  Wish  to  be  an  emperor, 
father,  to  begin  with;  then  you  can't  be 
henpecked." 


The  Monkey's  Paw        37 

He  darted  round  the  table,  pursued  by  the 
maligned  Mrs.  White  armed  with  an  antima- 
cassar. 

Mr.  White  took  the  paw  from  his  pocket  and 
eyed  it  dubiously.  "I  don't  know  what  to 
wish  for,  and  that's  a  fact,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"It  seems  to  me  I've  got  all  I  want." 

"If  you  only  cleared  the  house,  you'd  be 
quite  happy,  wouldn't  you?"  said  Herbert, 
with  his  hand  on  his  shoulder.  "Well,  wish 
for  two  hundred  pounds,  then;  that  Jll  just 
do  it." 

His  father,  smiling  shamefacedly  at  his  own 
credulity,  held  up  the  talisman,  as  his  son,  with 
a  solemn  face,  somewhat  marred  by  a  wink  at 
his  mother,  sat  down  at  the  piano  and  struck  a 
few  impressive  chords. 

"I  wish  for  two  hundred  pounds,"  said  the 
old  man  distinctly. 

A  fine  crash  from  the  piano  greeted  the 
words,  interrupted  by  a  shuddering  cry  from 
the  old  man.  His  wife  and  son  ran  toward 
him. 

"It  moved,"  he  cried,  with  a  glance  of 
disgust  at  the  object  as  it  lay  on  the  floor. 


3  8    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"As  I  wished,  it  twisted  in  my  hand  like  a 
snake." 

"Well,  I  don't  see  the  money,"  said  his  son 
as  he  picked  it  up  and  placed  it  on  the  table, 
"and  I  bet  I  never  shall." 

"It  must  have  been  your  fancy,  father,"  said 
his  wife,  regarding  him  anxiously. 

He  shook  his  head.  "Never  mind,  though; 
there's  no  harm  done,  but  it  gave  me  a  shock  all 
the  same." 

They  sat  down  by  the  fire  again  while  the 
two  men  finished  their  pipes.  Outside,  the 
wind  was  higher  than  ever,  and  the  old  man 
started  nervously  at  the  sound  of  a  door  bang- 
ing upstairs.  A  silence  unusual  and  depress- 
ing settled  upon  all  three,  which  lasted  until  the 
old  couple  rose  to  retire  for  the  night. 

"I  expect  you'll  find  the  cash  tied  up  in  a 
big  bag  in  the  middle  of  your  bed,"  said  Her- 
bert, as  he  bade  them  good-night,  "and  some- 
thing horrible  squatting  up  on  top  of  the  ward- 
robe watching  you  as  you  pocket  your  ill-gotten 
gains." 

He  sat  alone  in  the  darkness,  gazing  at  the 
dying  fire,  and  seeing  faces  in  it.  The  last  face 


The  Monkey's  Paw        39 

was  so  horrible  and  so  simian  that  he  gazed  at 
it  in  amazement.  It  got  so  vivid  that,  with  a 
little  uneasy  laugh,  he  felt  on  the  table  for  a 
glass  containing  a  little  water  to  throw  over  it. 
His  hand  grasped  the  monkey's  paw,  and  with 
a  little  shiver  he  wiped  his  hand  on  his  coat  and 
went  up  to  bed. 


II. 


IN  the  brightness  of  the  wintry  sun  next 
morning  as  it  streamed  over  the  breakfast 
table  he  laughed  at  his  fears.  There  was  an 
air  of  prosaic  wholesomeness  about  the  room 
which  it  had  lacked  on  the  previous  night,  and 
the  dirty,  shrivelled  little  paw  was  pitched  on 
the  sideboard  with  a  carelessness  which  be- 
tokened no  great  belief  in  its  virtues. 

"I  suppose  all  old  soldiers  are  the  same," 
said  Mrs.  White.  "The  idea  of  our  listening 
to  such  nonsense!  How  could  wishes  be 
granted  in  these  days  ?  And  if  they  could,  how 
could  two  hundred  pounds  hurt  you,  father?" 

"Might  drop  on  his  head  from  the  sky,"  said 
the  frivolous  Herbert. 

"Morris  said  the  things  happened  so  natu- 
rally," said  his  father,  "that  you  might  if  you 
so  wished  attribute  it  to  coincidence." 

"Well,  don't  break  into  the  money  before  I 
come  back/'  said  Herbert  as  he  rose  from  the 


The  Monkey's  Paw        41 

table.  "I'm  afraid  it'll  turn  you  into  a  mean, 
avaricious  man,  and  we  shall  have  to  disown 
you." 

His  mother  laughed,  and  following  him  to 
the  door,  watched  him  down  the  road ;  and  re- 
turning to  the  breakfast  table,  was  very  happy 
at  the  expense  of  her  husband's  credulity.  All 
of  which  did  not  prevent  her  from  scurrying 
to  the  door  at  the  postman's  knock,  nor  prevent 
her  from  referring  somewhat  shortly  to  retired 
sergeant-majors  of  bibulous  habits  when  she 
found  that  the  post  brought  a  tailor's  bill. 

"Herbert  will  have  some  more  of  his  funny 
remarks,  I  expect,  when  he  comes  home,"  she 
said,  as  they  sat  at  dinner. 

"I  dare  say,"  said  Mr.  White,  pouring  him- 
self out  some  beer;  "but  for  all  that,  the  thing 
moved  in  my  hand;  that  I'll  swear  to." 

"You  thought  it  did,"  said  the  old  lady 
soothingly. 

"I  say  it  did,"  replied  the  other.  "There 

was  no  thought  about  it;  I  had  just 

What's  the  matter?" 

His  wife  made  no  reply.  She  was  watching 
the  mysterious  movements  of  a  man  outside, 


42    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

who,  peering  in  an  undecided  fashion  at  the 
house,  appeared  to  be  trying  to  make  up  his 
mind  to  enter.  In  mental  connection  with 
the  two  hundred  pounds,  she  noticed  that  the 
stranger  was  well  dressed,  and  wore  a  silk  hat 
of  glossy  newness.  Three  times  he  paused  at 
the  gate,  and  then  walked  on  again.  The 
fourth  time  he  stood  with  his  hand  upon  it,  and 
then  with  sudden  resolution  flung  it  open  and 
walked  up  the  path.  Mrs.  White  at  the  same 
moment  placed  her  hands  behind  her,  and  hur- 
riedly unfastening  the  strings  of  her  apron,  put 
that  useful  article  of  apparel  beneath  the  cush- 
ion of  her  chair. 

She  brought  the  stranger,  who  seemed  ill  at 
ease,  into  the  room.  He  gazed  at  her  furtive- 
ly, and  listened  in  a  preoccupied  fashion  as  the 
old  lady  apologized  for  the  appearance  of  the 
room,  and  her  husband's  coat,  a  garment  which 
he  usually  reserved  for  the  garden.  She  then 
waited  as  patiently  as  her  sex  would  permit, 
for  him  to  broach  his  business,  but  he  was  at 
first  strangely  silent. 

"I — was  asked  to  call,"  he  said  at  last, 
and  stooped  and  picked  a  piece  of  cotton 


The  Monkey's  Paw       43 

from  his  trousers.  "I  come  from  'Maw  and 
Meggins.' " 

The  old  lady  started.  "Is  anything  the  mat- 
ter?" she  asked,  breathlessly.  "Has  anything 
happened  to  Herbert?  What  is  it?  What  is 
it?" 

Her  husband  interposed.  "There,  there, 
mother,"  he  said,  hastily.  "Sit  down,  and 
don't  jump  to  conclusions.  You've  not 
brought  bad  news,  I'm  sure,  sir;"  and  he  eyed 
the  other  wistfully. 

"I'm  sorry — "  began  the  visitor. 

"Is  he  hurt?"  demanded  the  mother,  wildly. 

The  visitor  bowed  in  assent.  "Badly  hurt," 
he  said,  quietly,  "but  he  is  not  in  any  pain." 

"Oh,  thank  God !"  said  the  old  woman,  clasp- 
ing her  hands.  "Thank  God  for  that! 
Thank " 

She  broke  off  suddenly  as  the  sinister  mean- 
ing of  the  assurance  dawned  upon  her  and  she 
saw  the  awful  confirmation  of  her  fears  in  the 
other's  perverted  face.  She  caught  her  breath, 
and  turning  to  her  slower-witted  husband,  laid 
her  trembling  old  hand  upon  his.  There  was  a 
long  silence. 


44     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"He  was  caught  in  the  machinery,"  said  the 
visitor  at  length  in  a  low  voice. 

"Caught  in  the  machinery,"  repeated  Mr. 
White,  in  a  dazed  fashion,  "yes." 

He  sat  staring  blankly  out  at  the  window, 
and  taking  his  wife's  hand  between  his  own, 
pressed  it  as  he  had  been  wont  to  do  in  their 
old  courting-days  nearly  forty  years  before. 

"He  was  the  only  one  left  to  us,"  he  said, 
turning  gently  to  the  visitor.  "It  is  hard." 

The  other  coughed,  and  rising,  walked  slow- 
ly to  the  window.  "The  firm  wished  me  to 
convey  their  sincere  sympathy  with  you  in  your 
great  loss,"  he  said,  without  looking  round.  "I 
beg  that  you  will  understand  I  am  only  their 
servant  and  merely  obeying  orders." 

There  was  no  reply;  the  old  woman's  face 
was  white,  her  eyes  staring,  and  her  breath  in- 
audible; on  the  husband's  face  was  a  look  such 
as  his  friend  the  sergeant  might  have  carried 
into  his  first  action. 

"I  was  to  say  that  Maw  and  Meggins  dis- 
claim all  responsibility,"  continued  the  other. 
"They  admit  no  liability  at  all,  but  in  con- 
sideration of  your  son's  services,  they  wish 


The  Monkey's  Paw       45 

to  present  you  with  a  certain  sum  as  compen- 
sation." 

Mr.  White  dropped  his  wife's  hand,  and  ris- 
ing to  his  feet,  gazed  with  a  look  of  horror  at 
his  visitor.  His  dry  lips  shaped  the  words, 
"How  much?" 

"Two  hundred  pounds,"  was  the  answer. 

Unconscious  of  his  wife's  shriek,  the  old  man 
smiled  faintly,  put  out  his  hands  like  a  sightless 
man,  and  dropped,  a  senseless  heap,  to  the 
floor. 


III. 


IN  the  huge  new  cemetery,  some  two  miles 
distant,  the  old  people  buried  their  dead,  and 
came  back  to  a  house  steeped  in  shadow  and  si- 
lence. It  was  all  over  so  quickly  that  at  first 
they  could  hardly  realize  it,  and  remained  in  a 
state  of  expectation  as  though  of  something 
else  to  happen — something  else  which  was  to 
lighten  this  load,  too  heavy  for  old  hearts  to 
bear. 

But  the  days  passed,  and  expectation  gave 
place  to  resignation — the  hopeless  resignation 
of  the  old,  sometimes  miscalled,  apathy.  Some- 
times they  hardly  exchanged  a  word,  for  now 
they  had  nothing  to  talk  about,  and  their  days 
were  long  to  weariness. 

It  was  about  a  week  after  that  the  old  man, 
waking  suddenly  in  the  night,  stretched  out  his 
hand  and  found  himself  alone.  The  room  was 
in  darkness,  and  the  sound  of  subdued  weeping 


The  Monkey's  Paw       47 

came  from  the  window.  He  raised  himself  in 
bed  and  listened. 

"Come  back,"  he  said,  tenderly.  "You  will 
be  cold/' 

"It  is  colder  for  my  son,"  said  the  old  wo- 
man, and  wept  afresh. 

The  sound  of  her  sobs  died  away  on  his 
ears.  The  bed  was  warm,  and  his  eyes  heavy 
with  sleep.  He  dozed  fitfully,  and  then  slept 
until  a  sudden  wild  cry  from  his  wife  awoke 
him  with  a  start. 

"The  paw!"  she  cried  wildly.  "The  mon- 
key's paw!" 

He  started  up  in  alarm.  "Where?  Where 
is  it  ?  What's  the  matter  ?" 

She  came  stumbling  across  the  room  toward 
him.  "I  want  it,"  she  said,  quietly.  "You've 
not  destroyed  it?" 

"It's  in  the  parlour,  on  the  bracket,"  he  re- 
plied, marvelling.  "Why?" 

She  cried  and  laughed  together,  and  bending 
over,  kissed  his  cheek. 

"I  only  just  thought  of  it,"  she  said,  hysteri- 
cally. "Why  didn't  I  think  of  it  before?  Why 
didn't  you  think  of  it?" 


48    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 


'Think  of  what  ?"  he  questioned. 

'The  other  two  wishes,"  she  replied,  rapidly. 
"We've  only  had  one." 

"Was  not  that  enough?"  he  demanded, 
fiercely. 

"No,"  she  cried,  triumphantly;  "we'll  have 
one  more.  Go  down  and  get  it  quickly,  and 
wish  our  boy  alive  again." 

The  man  sat  up  in  bed  and  flung  the  bed- 
clothes from  his  quaking  limbs.  "Good  God, 
you  are  mad !"  he  cried,  aghast. 

"Get  it,"  she  panted;  "get  it  quickly,  and 
wish Oh,  my  boy,  my  boy !" 

Her  husband  struck  a  match  and  lit  the  can- 
dle. "Get  back  to  bed,"  he  said,  unsteadily. 
"You  don't  know  what  you  are  saying." 

"We  had  the  first  wish  granted,"  said  the  old 
woman,  feverishly;  "why  not  the  second?" 

"A  coincidence,"  stammered  the  old  man. 

"Go  and  get  it  and  wish,"  cried  his  wife, 
quivering  with  excitement. 

The  old  man  turned  and  regarded  her,  and 
his  voice  shook.  "He  has  been  dead  ten  days, 
and  besides  he — I  would  not  tell  you  else,  but — 
I  could  only  recognize  him  by  his  clothing.  If 


The  Monkey's  Paw        49 

he  was  too  terrible  for  you  to  see  then,  how 
now?" 

"Bring  him  back,"  cried  the  old  woman,  and 
dragged  him  toward  the  door.  "Do  you  think 
I  fear  the  child  I  have  nursed?" 

He  went  down  in  the  darkness,  and  felt  his 
way  to  the  parlour,  and  then  to  the  mantel- 
piece. The  talisman  was  in  its  place,  and  a 
horrible  fear  that  the  unspoken  wish  might 
bring  his  mutilated  son  before  him  ere  he  could 
escape  from  the  room  seized  upon  him,  and  he 
caught  his  breath  as  he  found  that  he  had  lost 
the  direction  of  the  door.  His  brow  cold  with 
sweat,  he  felt  his  way  round  the  table,  and 
groped  along  the  wall  until  he  found  himself 
in  the  small  passage  with  the  unwholesome 
thing  in  his  hand. 

Even  his  wife's  face  seemed  changed  as  he 
entered  the  room.  It  was  white  and  expect- 
ant, and  to  his  fears  seemed  to  have  an  unnatu- 
ral look  upon  it.  He  was  afraid  of  her. 

"Wish!"  she  cried,  in  a  strong  voice. 

"It  is  foolish  and  wicked,"  he  faltered. 

"Wish!"  repeated  his  wife. 

He  raised  his  hand.  "I  wish  my  son  alive 
again."  E 


50    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

The  talisman  fell  to  the  floor,  and  he  re- 
garded it  fearfully.  Then  he  sank  trembling 
into  a  chair  as  the  old  woman,  with  burning 
eyes,  walked  to  the  window  and  raised  the 
blind. 

He  sat  until  he  was  chilled  with  the  cold, 
glancing  occasionally  at  the  figure  of  the  old 
woman  peering  through  the  window.  The 
candle-end,  which  had  burned  below  the  rim  of 
the  china  candlestick,  was  throwing  pulsating 
shadows  on  the  ceiling  and  walls,  until,  with  a 
flicker  larger  than  the  rest,  it  expired.  The 
old  man,  with  an  unspeakable  sense  of  relief 
at  the  failure  of  the  talisman,  crept  back  to  his 
bed,  and  a  minute  or  two  afterward  the  old 
woman  came  silently  and  apathetically  beside 
him. 

Neither  spoke,  but  lay  silently  listening  to 
the  ticking  of  the  clock.  A  stair  creaked,  and 
a  squeaky  mouse  scurried  noisily  through  the 
wall.  The  darkness  was  oppressive,  and  after 
lying  for  some  time  screwing  up  his  courage, 
he  took  the  box  of  matches,  and  striking  one, 
went  downstairs  for  a  candle. 

At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  the  match  went  out, 


"WHAT'S  THAT?"  CRIED  THE  OLD  WOMAN. 


The  Monkey's  Paw        5  i 

and  he  paused  to  strike  another;  and  at  the 
same  moment  a  knock,  so  quiet  and  stealthy  as 
to  be  scarcely  audible,  sounded  on  the  front 
door. 

The  matches  fell  from  his  hand  and  spilled  in 
the  passage.  He  stood  motionless,  his  breath 
suspended  until  the  knock  was  repeated.  Then 
he  turned  and  fled  swiftly  back  to  his  room,  and 
closed  the  door  behind  him.  A  third  knock 
sounded  through  the  house. 

"What's  that?"  cried  the  old  woman,  start- 
ing up. 

"A  rat,"  said  the  old  man  in  shaking  tones — 
"a  rat.  It  passed  me  on  the  stairs." 

His  wife  sat  up  in  bed  listening.  A  loud 
knock  resounded  through  the  house. 

"It's  Herbert!"  she  screamed.  "It's  Her- 
bert!" 

She  ran  to  the  door,  but  her  husband  was  be- 
fore her,  and  catching  her  by  the  arm,  held  her 
tightly. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  whispered 
hoarsely. 

"It's  my  boy;  it's  Herbert!"  she  cried,  strug- 
gling mechanically.  "I  forgot  it  was  two  miles 


5  2    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

away.  What  are  you  holding  me  for?  Let 
go.  I  must  open  the  door. 

"For  God's  sake  don't  let  it  in,"  cried  the  old 
man,  trembling. 

"You're  afraid  of  your  own  son,"  she  cried, 
struggling.  "Let  me  go.  I'm  coming,  Her- 
bert; I'm  coming.7' 

There  was  another  knock,  and  another.  The 
old  woman  with  a  sudden  wrench  broke  free 
and  ran  from  the  room.  Her  husband  fol- 
lowed to  the  landing,  and  called  after  her  ap- 
pealingly  as  she  hurried  downstairs.  He  heard 
the  chain  rattle  back  and  the  bottom  bolt  drawn 
slowly  and  stiffly  from  the  socket.  Then  the 
old  woman's  voice,  strained  and  panting. 

"The  bolt,"  she  cried,  loudly.  "Come  down. 
I  can't  reach  it." 

But  her  husband  was  on  his  hands  and 
knees  groping  wildly  on  the  floor  in  search  of 
the  paw.  If  he  could  only  find  it  before  the 
thing  outside  got  in.  A  perfect  fusillade  of 
knocks  reverberated  through  the  house,  and  he 
heard  the  scraping  of  a  chair  as  his  wife  put  it 
down  in  the  passage  against  the  door.  He 
heard  the  creaking  of  the  bolt  as  it  came  slowly 


The  Monkey's  Paw        53 

back,  and  at  the  same  moment  he  found  the 
monkey's  paw,  and  frantically  breathed  his 
third  and  last  wish. 

The  knocking  ceased  suddenly,  although  the 
echoes  of  it  were  still  in  the  house.  He  heard 
the  chair  drawn  back,  and  the  door  opened.  A 
cold  wind  rushed  up  the  staircase,  and  a  long 
loud  wail  of  disappointment  and  misery  from 
his  wife  gave  him  courage  to  run  down  to  her 
side,  and  then  to  the  gate  beyond.  The  street 
lamp  flickering  opposite  shone  on  a  quiet  and 
deserted  road. 


£ 

M  ' 

Bill's    Paper    Chase 

I 

5>^r»5>^^^^^<fer^t^r^'fe^'>yr^'> 


BILL'S   PAPER  CHASE 

SAILORMEN  'ave  their  faults,  said  the  night 
watchman,  frankly.  I'm  not  denying  of  it.  I 
used  to  'ave  myself  when  I  was  at  sea,  but  be- 
ing close  with  their  money  is  a  fault  as  can  sel- 
dom be  brought  ag'in  'em. 

I  saved  some  money  once — two  golden  sov- 
ereigns, owing  to  a  'ole  in  my  pocket.  Before 
I  got  another  ship  I  slept  two  nights  on  a  door- 
step and  'ad  nothing  to  eat,  and  I  found  them 
two  sovereigns  in  the  lining  o'  my  coat  when  I 
was  over  two  thousand  miles  away  from  the 
nearest  pub. 

I  on'y  knew  one  miser  all  the  years  I  was  at 
sea.  Thomas  Geary  'is  name  was,  and  we  was 
shipmates  aboard  the  barque  Grenada,  home- 
ward bound  from  Sydney  to  London. 

Thomas  was  a  man  that  was  getting  into 
years ;  sixty,  I  think  'e  was,  and  old  enough  to 
know  better.  'E'd  been  saving  'ard  for  over 
forty  years,  and  as  near  as  we  could  make  out 


5  8    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

'e  was  worth  a  matter  o'  six  'undered  pounds. 
He  used  to  be  fond  o'  talking  about  it,  and  let- 
ting us  know  how  much  better  off  'e  was  than 
any  of  the  rest  of  us. 

We  was  about  a  month  out  from  Sydney 
when  old  Thomas  took  sick.  Bill  Hicks  said 
that  it  was  owing  to  a  ha'penny  he  couldn't  ac- 
count for ;  but  Walter  Jones,  whose  family  was 
always  ill,  and  thought  'e  knew  a  lot  about  it, 
said  that  'e  knew  wot  it  was,  but  'e  couldn't  re- 
member the  name  of  it,  and  that  when  we  got 
to  London  and  Thomas  saw  a  doctor,  we 
should  see  as  'ow  'e  was  right. 

Whatever  it  was  the  old  man  got  worse  and 
worse.  The  skipper  came  down  and  gave  'im 
some  physic  and  looked  at  'is  tongue,  and  then 
'e  looked  at  our  tongues  to  see  wot  the  differ- 
ence was.  Then  'e  left  the  cook  in  charge  of 
'im  and  went  off. 

The  next  day  Thomas  was  worse,  and  it  was 
soon  clear  to  everybody  but  'im  that  'e  was  slip- 
ping 'is  cable.  He  wouldn't  believe  it  at  first, 
though  the  cook  told  'im,  Bill  Hicks  told  him, 
and  Walter  Jones  'ad  a  grandfather  that  went 
off  in  just  the  same  way. 


Bill's    Paper   Chase         59 

"I'm  not  going  to  die,"  says  Thomas  "How 
can  I  die  and  leave  all  that  money?" 

"It'll  be  good  for  your  relations,  Thomas," 
says  Walter  Jones. 

"I  ain't  got  any,"  says  the  old  man. 

"Well,  your  friends,  then,  Thomas,"  says 
Walter,  soft-like. 

"Ain't  got  any,"  says  the  old  man  ag'in. 

"Yes,  you  'ave,  Thomas,"  says  Walter,  with 
a  kind  smile;  "I  could  tell  you  one  you've 
got." 

Thomas  shut  his  eyes  at  'im  and  began  to 
talk  pitiful  about  'is  money  and  the  'ard  work 
'e'd  'ad  saving  of  it.  And  by-and-by  'e  got 
worse,  and  didn't  reckernise  us,  but  thought  we 
was  a  pack  o'  greedy,  drunken  sailormen.  He 
thought  Walter  Jones  was  a  shark,  and  told  'im 
so,  and,  try  all  'e  could,  Walter  couldn't  per- 
suade 'im  different. 

He  died  the  day  arter.  In  the  morning  'e 
was  whimpering  about  'is  money  ag'in,  and 
angry  with  Bill  when  'e  reminded  'im  that  'e 
couldn't  take  it  with  'im,  and  'e  made  Bill 
promise  that  'e  should  be  buried  just  as  'e  was. 
Bill  tucked  him  up  arter  that,  and  when  'e  felt 


60    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 


a  canvas  belt  tied  round  the  old  man's  waist  'e 
began  to  see  wot  'e  was  driving  at. 

The  weather  was  dirty  that  day  and  there 
was  a  bit  o'  sea  running,  consequently  all  'ands 
was  on  deck,  and  a  boy  about  sixteen  wot  used 
to  'elp  the  steward  down  aft  was  lookin'  arter 
Thomas.  Me  and  Bill  just  run  down  to  give  a 
look  at  the  old  man  in  time. 

"I  am  going  to  take  it  with  me,  Bill,"  says 
the  old  man. 

'That's  right,"  says  Bill. 

"My  mind's — easy  now,"  says  Thomas.  "I 
gave  it  to  Jimmy — to — to — throw  overboard 
for  me." 

"Wot?"  says  Bill,  staring. 

"That's  right,  Bill,"  says  the  boy.  "He  told 
me  to.  It  was  a  little  packet  o'  banknotes.  He 
gave  me  tuppence  for  doing  it." 

Old  Thomas  seemed  to  be  listening.  Ts 
eyes  was  open,  and  'e  looked  artful  at  Bill  to 
think  what  a  clever  thing  'e'd  done. 

"Nobody's  goin' — to  spend — my  money,"  'e 
says.  "Nobody's " 

We  drew  back  from  'is  bunk  and  stood  star- 
ing at  'im.  Then  Bill  turned  to  the  boy. 


Bill's   Paper   Chase        61 

"Go  and  tell  the  skipper  'e's  gone,"  'e  says, 
"and  mind,  for  your  own  sake,  don't  tell  the 
skipper  or  anybody  else  that  you've  thrown  all 
that  money  overboard." 

"Why  not?"  says  Jimmy. 

"Becos  you'll  be  locked  up  for  it,"  says  Bill; 
"you'd  no  business  to  do  it.  You've  been  and 
broke  the  law.  It  ought  to  ha*  been  left  to 
somebody." 

Jimmy  looked  scared,  and  arter  'e  was  gone  I 
turned  to  Bill,  and  I  looks  at  'im  and  I  says: 
"What's  the  little  game,  Bill?" 

"Game?"  said  Bill,  snorting  at  me.  "I 
don't  want  the  pore  boy  to  get  into  trouble,  do 
I  ?  Pore  little  chap.  You  was  young  yourself 


once." 


"Yes,"  I  says;  "but  I'm  a  bit  older  now,  Bill, 
and  unless  you  tell  me  what  your  little  game 
is,  I  shall  tell  the  skipper  myself,  and  the  chaps 
too.  Pore  old  Thomas  told  'im  to  do  it,  so 
where's  the  boy  to  blame?" 

"Do  you  think  Jimmy  did?"  says  Bill, 
screwing  up  his  nose  at  me.  "That  little  var- 
mint is  walking  about  worth  six  'undered  quid* 


62     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

Now  you  keep  your  mouth  shut  and  I'll  make  it 
worth  your  while." 

Then  I  see  Bill's  game.  "All  right,  I'll  keep 
quiet  for  the  sake  of  my  half,"  I  says,  looking 
at  'im. 

I  thought  he'd  ha'  choked,  and  the  langwidge 
'e  see  fit  to  use  was  a'most  as  much  as  I  could 
answer. 

"Very  well,  then,"  'e  says,  at  last,  "halves  it 
is.  It  ain't  robbery  becos  it  belongs  to  nobody, 
and  it  ain't  the  boy's  becos  'e  was  told  to  throw 
it  overboard." 

They  buried  pore  old  Thomas  next  morning, 
and  arter  it  was  all  over  Bill  put  'is  'and  on  the 
boy's  shoulder  as  they  walked  for'ard  and  'e 
says,  "Poor  old  Thomas  'as  gone  to  look  for  'is 
money,"  he  says ;  "wonder  whether  'e'll  find  it ! 
Was  it  a  big  bundle,  Jimmy?" 

"No,"  says  the  boy,  shaking  'is  'ead.  "They 
was  six  'undered  pound  notes  and  two  sove- 
reigns, and  I  wrapped  the  sovereigns  up  in  the 
notes  to  make  'em  sink.  Fancy  throwing 
money  away  like  that,  Bill :  seems  a  sin,  don't 
it?"  ' 


Bill's    Paper   Chase         63 

Bill  didn't  answer  'im,  and  that  afternoon 
the  other  chaps  below  being  asleep  we  searched 
'is  bunk  through  and  through  without  any  luck, 
and  at  last  Bill  sat  down  and  swore  'e  must  ha' 
got  it  about  'im. 

We  waited  till  night,  and  when  everybody 
was  snoring  'ard  we  went  over  to  the  boy's 
bunk  and  went  all  through  'is  pockets  and  felt 
the  linings,  and  then  we  went  back  to  our  side 
and  Bill  said  wot  'e  thought  about  Jimmy  in 
whispers. 

"He  must  ha'  got  it  tied  round  'is  waist  next 
to  'is  skin,  like  Thomas  'ad,"  I  says. 

We  stood  there  in  the  dark  whispering,  and 
then  Bill  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer,  and  'e 
went  over  on  tiptoe  to  the  bunk  ag'in.  He  was 
tremblin'  with  excitement  and  I  wasn't  much 
better,  when  all  of  a  sudden  the  cook  sat  up  in 
'is  bunk  with  a  dreadful  laughing  scream  and 
called  out  that  somebody  was  ticklin'  'im. 

I  got  into  my  bunk  and  Bill  got  into  'is, 
and  we  lay  there  listening  while  the  cook,  who 
was  a  terrible  ticklish  man,  leaned  out  of  'is 
bunk  and  said  wot  'e'd  do  if  it  'appened  ag'in. 

"Go  to  sleep,"  says  Walter  Jones;  "you're 


64   The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

dreamin'.  Who  cTyou  think  would  want  to 
tickle  you?" 

"I  tell  you,"  says  the  cook,  "somebody  come 
over  and  tickled  me  with  a  'and  the  size  of  a  leg 
o'  mutton.  I  feel  creepy  all  over." 

Bill  gave  it  up  for  that  night,  but  the  next 
day  'e  pretended  to  think  Jimmy  was  gettin'  fat 
an'  'e  caught  'old  of  'im  and  prodded  'im  all 
over.  He  thought  'e  felt  something  round  'is 
waist,  but  'e  couldn't  be  sure,  and  Jimmy  made 
such  a  noise  that  the  other  chaps  interfered  and 
told  Bill  to  leave  'im  alone. 

For  a  whole  week  we  tried  to  find  that 
money,  and  couldn't,  and  Bill  said  it  was  a  sus- 
picious thing  that  Jimmy  kept  aft  a  good  deal 
more  than  'e  used  to,  and  'e  got  an  idea  that 
the  boy  might  ha'  'idden  it  somewhere  there. 
At  the  end  of  that  time,  'owever,  owing  to  our 
being  short-'anded,  Jimmy  was  sent  for'ard  to 
work  as  ordinary  seaman,  and  it  began  to  be 
quite  noticeable  the  way  'e  avoided  Bill. 

At  last  one  day  we  got  'im  alone  down  the 
fo'c'sle,  and  Bill  put  'is  arm  round  'im  and  got 
'im  on  the  locker  and  asked  'im  straight  out 
where  the  money  was. 


Bill's   Paper   Chase        65 

"Why,  I  chucked  it  overboard,"  he  says.  "I 
told  you  so  afore.  .What  a  memory  you've 
got,  Bill!" 

Bill  picked  'im  up  and  laid  'im  on  the  locker, 
and  we  searched  'im  thoroughly.      We  even 
took  'is  boots  off,  and  then  we  'ad  another 
look   in   'is  bunk   while   'e  was  putting   'em        / 
on  ag'in. 

"If  you're  innercent,"  says  Bill,  "why  don't 
you  call  out? — eh?" 

"Because  you  told  me  not  to  say  anything 
about  it,  Bill,"  says  the  boy.  "But  I  will  next 
time.  Loud,  I  will." 

"Look  'ere,"  says  Bill,  "you  tell  us  where  it 
is,  and  the  three  of  us'll  go  shares  in  it.  That'll 
be  two  'undered  pounds  each,  and  we'll  tell  you 
'ow  to  get  yours  changed  without  getting 
caught.  We're  cleverer  than  you  are,  you 
know." 

"I  know  that,  Bill,"  says  the  boy;  "but  it's 
no  good  me  telling  you  lies.  I  chucked  it  over- 
board." 

"Very  good,  then,"  says  Bill,  getting  up. 
"I'm  going  to  tell  the  skipper." 

"Tell  'im,"  says  Jimmy.     "I  don't  care." 


66    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Then  you'll  be  searched  arter  you've 
stepped  ashore,"  says  Bill,  "and  you  won't  be 
allowed  on  the  ship  ag'in.  You'll  lose  it  all  by 
being  greedy,  whereas  if  you  go  shares  with  us 
you'll  'ave  two  'undered  pounds." 

I  could  see  as  'ow  the  boy  'adn't  thought  o' 
that,  and  try  as  'e  would  'e  couldn't  'ide  'is  feel- 
in's.  He  called  Bill  a  red-nosed  shark,  and  'e 
called  me  somethin'  I've  forgotten  now. 

"Think  it  over,"  says  Bill;  "mind,  you'll  be 
collared  as  soon  as  you've  left  the  gangway  and 
searched  by  the  police." 

"And  will  they  tickle  the  cook  too,  I  won- 
der?" says  Jimmy,  savagely. 

"And  if  they  find  it  you'll  go  to  prison,"  says 
Bill,  giving  'im  a  clump  o'  the  side  o'  the  'ead, 
"and  you  won't  like  that,  I  can  tell  you." 

"Why,  ain't  it  nice,  Bill?"  say^  Jimmy,  hold- 
ing 'is  ear. 

Bill  looked  at  'im  and  then  'e  steps  to  the  lad- 
der. "I'm  not  going  to  talk  to  you  any  more, 
my  lad,"  'e  says.  "I'm  going  to  tell  the  skip- 
per." 

He  went  up  slowly,  and  just  as  'e  reached  the 
deck  Jimmy  started  up  and  called  'im.  Bill 


Bill's   Paper  Chase        67 

pretended  not  to  'ear,  and  the  boy  ran  up  on 
deck  and  follered  'im;  and  arter  a  little  while 
they  both  came  down  again  together. 

"Did  you  wish  to  speak  to  me,  my  lad  ?"  says 
Bill,  'olding  'is  'ead  up. 

"Yes,"  says  the  boy,  fiddling  with  'is  fingers; 
"if  you  keep  your  ugly  mouth  shut,  we'll  go 
shares." 

"Ho !"  says  Bill,  "I  thought  you  throwed  it 
overboard !" 

"I  thought  so,  too,  Bill,"  says  Jimmy,  very 
softly,  "and  when  I  came  below  ag'in  I  found  it 
in  my  trousers  pocket." 

"Where  is  it  now?"  says  Bill. 

"Never  mind  where  it  is,"  says  the  boy; 
"you  couldn't  get  it  if  I  was  to  tell  you.  It'll 
take  me  all  my  time  to  do  it  myself." 

"Where  is  it?"  says  Bill,  ag'in.  "I'm  goin' 
to  take  care  of  it.  I  won't  trust  you." 

"And  I  ^an't  trust  you,"  says  Jimmy. 

"If  you  don't  tell  me  where  it  is  this  minute," 
says  Bill,  moving  to  the  ladder  ag'in,  "I'm  off 
to  tell  the  skipper.  I  want  it  in  my  'ands,  or  at 
any  rate  my  share  of  it.  Why  not  share  it  out 
nowB" 


68    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Because  I  'aven't  got  it,"  says  Jimmy, 
stamping  'is  foot,  "that's  why,  and  it's  all  your 
silly  fault.  Arter  you  came  pawing  through 
my  pockets  when  you  thought  I  was  asleep  I 
got  frightened  and  'id  it." 

"Where?"  says  Bill. 

"In  the  second  mate's  mattress,"  says  Jim- 
my. "I  was  tidying  up  down  aft  and  I  found 
a  'ole  in  the  underneath  side  of  'is  mattress  and 
I  shoved  it  in  there,  and  poked  it  in  with  a  bit 
o'  stick." 

"And  'ow  are  you  going  to  get  it?"  says 
Bill,  scratching  'is  'ead. 

"That's  wot  I  don't  know,  seeing  that  I'm 
not  allowed  aft  now,"  says  Jimmy.  "One  of 
us'll  'ave  to  make  a  dash  for  it  when  we  get  to 
London.  And  mind  if  there's  any  'anky- 
panky  on  your  part,  Bill,  I'll  give  the  show- 
away  myself." 

The  cook  came  down  just  then  and  we  'ad  to 
leave  off  talking,  and  I  could  see  that  Bill  was 
so  pleased  at  finding  that  the  money  'adn't  been 
thrown  overboard  that  'e  was  losing  sight  o' 
the  difficulty  o'  getting  at  it.  In  a  day  or  two, 
'owever,  'e  see  it  as  plain  as  me  and  Jimmy  did, 


Bill's   Paper   Chase        69 

and,  as  time  went  by,  he  got  desprit,  and  fright- 
ened us  both  by  'anging  about  aft  every  chance 
'e  got. 

The  companion-way  faced  the  wheel,  and 
there  was  about  as  much  chance  o'  getting 
down  there  without  being  seen  as  there  would 
be  o*  taking  a  man's  false  teeth  out  of  'is  mouth 
without  'is  knowing  it.  Jimmy  went  down 
one  day  while  Bill  was  at  the  wheel  to  look  for 
'is  knife,  wot  'e  thought  'e'd  left  down  there, 
and  'ed  'ardly  got  down  afore  Bill  saw  'im 
come  up  ag'in,  'olding  on  to  the  top  of  a  mop 
which  the  steward  was  using. 

We  couldn't  figure  it  out  nohow,  and  to  think 
o'  the  second  mate,  a  little  man  with  a  large 
fam'ly,  who  never  'ad  a  penny  in  'is  pocket, 
sleeping  every  night  on  a  six  'undered  pound 
.mattress,  sent  us  pretty  near  crazy.  We  used 
to  talk  it  over  whenever  we  got  a  chance,  and 
Bill  and  Jimmy  could  scarcely  be  civil  to  each 
other.  The  boy  said  it  was  Bill's  fault,  and  'e 
said  it  was  the  boy's. 

"The  on'y  thing  I  can  see,"  says  the  boy,  one 
day,  "is  for  Bill  to  'ave  a  touch  of  sunstroke  as 
Vs  leaving  the  wheel  one  day,  tumble  '  cad-first 


jo    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

down  the  companion-way,  and  injure  'isself  so 
severely  that  'e  can't  be  moved.  Then  they'll 
put  'im  in  a  cabin  down  aft,  and  p'raps  I'll  'ave 
to  go  and  nurse  'im.  Anyway,  he'll  be  down 
there." 

"It's  a  very  good  idea,  Bill,"  I  says. 

"Ho,"  says  Bill,  looking  at  me  as  if  'e  would 
eat  me.  "Why  don't  you  do  it,  then?" 

"I'd  sooner  you  did  it,  Bill,"  says  the  boy; 
"still,  I  don't  mind  which  it  is.  ,Why  not  toss 
up  for  it?" 

"Get  away,"  says  Bill.  "Get  away  afore  I 
do  something  you  won't  like,  you  blood-thirsty 
little  murderer." 

"I've  got  a  plan  myself,"  he  says,  in  a  low 
voice,  after  the  boy  'ad  'opped  off,  "and  if  I 
can't  think  of  nothing  better  I'll  try  it,  and 
mind,  not  a  word  to  the  boy." 

He  didn't  think  o'  nothing  better,  and  one 
night  just  as  we  was  making  the  Channel  'e 
tried  'is  plan.  He  was  in  the  second  mate's 
watch,  and  by-and-by  'e  leans  over  the  wheel 
and  says  to  'im  in  a  low  voice,  "This  is  my  last 
v'y'ge,  sir." 

"Oh,"  says  the  second  mate,  who  was  a  man 


Bill's   Paper   Chase        7 1 

as  didn't  mind  talking  to  a  man  before  the  mast. 
"How's  that?" 

"I've  got  a  berth  ashore,  sir/'  says  Bill,  "and 
I  wanted  to  ask  a  favour,  sir." 

The  second  mate  growled  and  walked  off 
a  pace  or  two. 

"I've  never  been  so  'appy  as  I've  been  on  this 
ship,"  says  Bill;  "none  of  us  'ave.  We  was 
saying  so  the  other  night,  and  everybody 
agreed  as  it  was  owing  to  you,  sir,  and  your 
kindness  to  all  of  us." 

The  second  mate  coughed,  but  Bill  could  see 
as  'e  was  a  bit  pleased. 

"The  feeling  came  over  me,"  says  Bill,  "that 
when  I  leave  the  sea  for  good  I'd  like  to  'ave 
something  o'  yours  to  remember  you  by,  sir. 
And  it  seemed  to  me  that  if  I  'ad  your  mattress 
I  should  think  of  you  ev'ry  night  o'  my  life." 

"My  wot?"  says  the  second  mate,  staring  at 
'im. 

"Your  mattress,  sir,"  says  Bill.  "If  I  might 
make  so  bold  as  to  offer  a  pound  for  it,  sir.  I 
want  something  wot's  been  used  by  you,  and 
I've  got  a  fancy  for  that  as  a  keepsake." 

The    second    mate    shook    'is    'ead.     "I'm 


J2    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

sorry,  Bill,"  'e  says,  gently,  "but  I  couldn't  let 
it  go  at  that." 

"I'd  sooner  pay  thirty  shillin's  than  not  'ave 
it,  sir,"  says  Bill,  'umbly. 

"I  gave  a  lot  of  money  for  that  mattress," 
says  the  mate,  ag'in.  "I  forgit  'ow  much,  but 
a  lot.  You  don't  know  'ow  valuable  that  mat- 
tress is." 

"I  know  it's  a  good  one,  sir,  else  you 
wouldn't  'ave  it,"  says  Bill.  "Would  a  couple 
o'  pounds  buy  it,  sir?" 

The  second  mate  hum'd  and  ha'd,  but  Bill 
was  afeard  to  go  any  'igher.  So  far  as  'e 
could  make  out  from  Jimmy,  the  mattress  was 
worth  about  eighteen  pence — to  anybody  who 
wasn't  pertiklar. 

"I've  slept  on  that  mattress  for  years,"  says 
the  second  mate,  looking  at  'im  from  the  cor- 
ner of  'is  eye.  "I  don't  believe  I  could  sleep 
on  another.  Still,  to  oblige  you,  Bill,  you  shall 
'ave  it  at  that  if  you  don't  want  it  till  we  go 
ashore?" 

"Thankee,  sir,"  says  Bill,  'ardly  able  to  keep 
from  dancing,  "and  I'll  'and  over  the  two 
pounds  when  we're  paid  off.  I  shall  keep  it  all 


Bill's   Paper   Chase         73 

my  life,  sir,  in  memory  of  you  and  your  kind- 
ness." 

"And  mind  you  keep  quiet  about  it,"  says 
the  second  mate,  who  didn't  want  the  skipper 
to  know  wot  'e'd  been  doing,  "because  I  don't 
want  to  be  bothered  by  other  men  wanting  to 
buy  things  as  keepsakes." 

Bill  promised  'im  like  a  shot,  and  when  'e 
told  me  about  it  'e  was  nearly  crying  with  joy. 

"And  mind,"  'e  says,  "I've  bought  that  mat- 
tress, bought  it  as  it  stands,  and  it's  got  nothing 
to  do  with  Jimmy.  We'll  each  pay  a  pound 
and  halve  wot's  in  it." 

He  persuaded  me  at  last,  but  that  boy 
watched  us  like  a  cat  watching  a  couple  of  can- 
aries, and  I  could  see  we  should  'ave  all  we 
could  do  to  deceive  'im.  He  seemed  more  sus- 
picious o'  Bill  than  me,  and  'e  kep'  worrying 
us  nearly  every  day  to  know  what  we  were  go- 
ing to  do. 

We  beat  about  in  the  channel  with  a  strong 
'ead-wind  for  four  days,  and  then  a  tug  picked 
us  up  and  towed  us  to  London. 

The  excitement  of  that  last  little  bit  was 
'orrible.  Fust  of  all  we  'ad  got  to  get  the  mat- 


74     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

tress,  and  then  in  some  way  we  'ad  got  to  get 
rid  o'  Jimmy.  Bill's  idea  was  for  me  to  take 
'im  ashore  with  me  and  tell  'im  that  Bill  would 
join  us  arterwards,  and  then  lose  'im;  but  I 
said  that  till  I'd  got  my  share  I  couldn't  bear 
to  lose  sight  o'  Bill's  honest  face  for  'alf  a 
second. 

And,  besides,  Jimmy  wouldn't  Jave  gone. 
All  the  way  up  the  river  'e  stuck  to  Bill,  and 
kept  asking  Jim  wot  we  were  to  do.  'E  was  'alf 
crying,  and  so  excited  that  Bill  was  afraid  the 
other  chaps  would  notice  it. 

We  got  to  our  berth  in  the  East  India  Docks 
at  last,  and  arter  we  were  made  fast  we  went 
below  to  'ave  a  wash  and  change  into  our  shore- 
going  togs.  Jimmy  watched  us  all  the  time, 
and  then  'e  comes  up  to  Bill  biting  'is  nails,  and 
says: 

"How's  it  to  be  done,  Bill?" 

"Hang  about  arter  the  rest  'ave  gone  ashore, 
and  trust  to  luck,"  says  Bill,  looking  at  me. 
"We'll  see  'ow  the  land  lays  when  we  draw  our 
advance." 

We  went  down  aft  to  draw  ten  shillings  each 
to  go  ashore  with.  Bill  and  me  got  ours  fust, 


Bill's   Paper   Chase        75 

and  then  the  second  mate  who  'ad  tipped 
'im  the  wink  followed  us  out  unconcerned- 
like  and  'anded  Bill  the  mattress  rolled  up  in  a 
sack. 

"'Ere  you  are,  Bill,"  'e  says. 

"Much  obliged,  sir,"  says  Bill,  and  'is 
'ands  trembled  so  as  'e  could  'ardly  'old  it, 
and  'e  made  to  go  off  afore  Jimmy  come  on 
deck. 

Then  that  fool  of  a  mate  kept  us  there  while 
'e  made  a  little  speech.  Twice  Bill  made  to  go 
off,  but  'e  put  'is  'and  on  'is  arm  and  kept  'im 
there  while  'e  told  'im  'ow  he'd  always  tried  to 
be  liked  by  the  men,  and  'ad  generally  suc- 
ceeded, and  in  the  middle  of  it  up  popped  Mas- 
ter Jimmy. 

He  gave  a  start  as  he  saw  the  bag,  and  'is 
eyes  opened  wide,  and  then  as  we  walked  for- 
'ard  'e  put  'is  arm  through  Bill's  and  called  'im 
all  the  names  'e  could  think  of. 

"You'd  steal  the  milk  out  of  a  cat's  saucer," 
Je  says;  "but  mind,  you  don't  leave  this  ship 
till  I've  got  my  share." 

"I  meant  it  for  a  pleasant  surprise  for  you, 
Jimmy,"  says  Bill,  trying  to  smile. 


7  6     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"I  don't  like  your  surprises,  Bill,  so  I  don't 
deceive  you,"  says  the  boy.  "Where  are  you 
going  to  open  it?" 

"I  was  thinking  of  opening  it  in  my  bunk," 
says  Bill.  "The  perlice  might  want  to  exam- 
ine it  if  we  took  it  through  the  dock.  Come 
on,  Jimmy,  old  man." 

"Yes;  all  right,"  says  the  boy,  nodding  'is 
'ead  at  'im.  "I'll  stay  up  'ere.  You  might 
forget  yourself,  Bill,  if  I  trusted  myself  down 
there  with  you  alone.  You  can  throw  my 
share  up  to  me,  and  then  you'll  leave  the  ship 
afore  I  do.  See?" 

"Go  to  blazes,"  says  Bill;  and  then,  seeing 
that  the  last  chance  'ad  gone,  we  went  below, 
and  'e  chucked  the  bundle  in  'is  bunk.  There 
was  only  one  chap  down  there,  and  arter  spend- 
ing best  part  o'  ten  minutes  doing  'is  hair  'e 
nodded  to  us  and  went  off. 

Half  a  minute  later  Bill  cut  open  the  mat- 
tress and  began  to  search  through  the  stuffing, 
while  I  struck  matches  and  watched  'im.  It 
wasn't  a  big  mattress  and  there  wasn't  much 
stuffing,  but  we  couldn't  seem  to  see  that 
money.  Bill  went  all  over  it  ag'in  and  ag'in, 


Bill's    Paper   Chase        77 

and  then  'e  stood  up  and  looked  at  me  and 
caught  'is  breath  painful. 

"Do  you  think  the  mate  found  it?"  'e  says, 
in  a  'usky  voice. 

We  went  through  it  ag'in,  and  then  Bill  went 
half-way  up  the  fo'c's'le  ladder  and  called  soft- 
ly for  Jimmy.  He  called  three  times,  and 
then,  with  a  sinking  sensation  in  'is  stummick, 
'e  went  up  on  deck  and  I  follered  'im.  The 
boy  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  All  we  saw  was 
the  ship's  cat  'aving  a  wash  and  brush-up  afore 
going  ashore,  and  the  skipper  standing  aft  talk- 
ing to  the  owner. 

We  never  saw  that  boy  ag'in.  He  never 
turned  up  for  'is  box,  and  'e  didn't  show  up  to 
draw  'is  pay.  Everybody  else  was  there,  of 
course,  and  arter  I'd  got  mine  and  come  out- 
side I  see  pore  Bill  with  'is  back  up  ag'in  a  wall, 
staring  'ard  at  the  second  mate,  who  was  look- 
ing at  'im  with  a  kind  smile,  and  asking  'im 
'ow  he'd  slept.  The  last  thing  I  saw  of  Bill, 
the  pore  chap  'ad  got  'is  'ands  in  'is  trousers 
pockets,  and  was  trying  'is  hardest  to  smile 
back. 


I 

The  Well  $ 


THE  WELL 

Two  men  stood  in  the  billiard-room  of  an 
old  country  house,  talking.  Play,  which  had 
been  of  a  half-hearted  nature,  was  over,  and 
they  sat  at  the  open  window,  looking  out  over 
the  park  stretching  away  beneath  them,  con- 
versing idly. 

"Your  time's  nearly  up,  Jem,"  said  one  at 
length,  "this  time  six  weeks  you'll  be  yawning 
out  the  honeymoon  and  cursing  the  man — 
woman  I  mean — who  invented  them." 

Jem  Benson  stretched  his  long  limbs  in  the 
chair  and  grunted  in  dissent. 

"I've  never  understood  it,"  continued  Wil- 
fred Carr,  yawning.  "It's  not  in  my  line  at 
all;  I  never  had  enough  money  for  my  own 
wants,  let  alone  for  two.  Perhaps  if  I  were  as 
rich  as  you  or  Croesus  I  might  regard  it  dif- 
ferently." 

There  was  just  sufficient  meaning  in  the  lat- 


82     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

ter  part  of  the  remark  for  his  cousin  to  forbear 
to  reply  to  it.  He  continued  to  gaze  out  of  the 
window  and  to  smoke  slowly. 

"Not  being  as  rich  as  Croesus — or  you,"  re- 
sumed Carr,  regarding  him  from  beneath  low- 
ered lids,  "I  paddle  my  own  canoe  down  the 
stream  of  Time,  and,  tying  it  to  my  friends' 
door-posts,  go  in  to  eat  their  dinners." 

"Quite  Venetian,"  said  Jem  Benson,  still 
looking  out  of  the  window.  "It's  not  a  bad 
thing  for  you,  Wilfred,  that  you  have  the  door- 
posts and  dinners — and  friends." 

Carr  grunted  in  his  turn.  "Seriously 
though,  Jem,"  he  said,  slowly,  "you're  a  lucky 
fellow,  a  very  lucky  fellow.  If  there  is  a  better 
girl  above  ground  than  Olive,  I  should  like  to 
see  her." 

"Yes,"  said  the  other,  quietly. 

"She's  such  an  exceptional  girl,"  continued 
Carr,  staring  out  of  the  window.  "She's  so 
good  and  gentle.  She  thinks  you  are  a  bundle 
of  all  the  virtues." 

He  laughed  frankly  and  joyously,  but  the 
other  man  did  not  join  him. 

"Strong  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  though," 


The  Well  83 


continued  Carr,  musingly.  "Do  you  know,  I 
believe  that  if  she  found  out  that  you  were 
not '" 

"Not  what?"  demanded  Benson,  turning 
upon  him  fiercely,  "Not  what?" 

"Everything  that  you  are,"  returned  his 
cousin,  with  a  grin  that  belied  his  words,  "I 
believe  she'd  drop  you." 

"Talk  about  something  else,"  said  Benson, 
slowly;  "your  pleasantries  are  not  always  in 
the  best  taste." 

Wilfred  Carr  rose  and  taking  a  cue  from 
the  rack,  bent  over  the  board  and  practiced  one 
or  two  favourite  shots.  "The  only  other  sub- 
ject I  can  talk  about  just  at  present  is  my  own 
financial  affairs,"  he  said  slowly,  as  he  walked 
round  the  table. 

"Talk  about  something  else,"  said  Benson 
again,  bluntly. 

"And  the  two  things  are  connected,"  said 
Carr,  and  dropping  his  cue  he  half  sat  on  the 
table  and  eyed  his  cousin. 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Benson  pitched 
the  end  of  his  cigar  out  of  the  window,  and 
leaning  back  closed  his  eyes. 


84    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Do  you  follow  me?"  inquired  Carr  at 
length. 

Benson  opened  his  eyes  and  nodded  at  the 
window. 

"Do  you  want  to  follow  my  cigar?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"I  should  prefer  to  depart  by  the  usual  way 
for  your  sake/'  returned  the  other,  unabashed. 
"If  I  left  by  the  window  all  sorts  of  questions 
would  be  asked,  and  you  know  what  a  talkative 
chap  I  am." 

"So  long  as  you  don't  talk  about  my  affairs," 
returned  the  other,  restraining  himself  by  an 
obvious  effort,  "you  can  talk  yourself  hoarse." 

"I'm  in  a  mess,"  said  Carr,  slowly,  "a  devil 
of  a  mess.  If  I  don't  raise  fifteen  hundred  by 
this  day  fortnight,  I  may  be  getting  my  board 
and  lodging  free." 

"Would  that  be  any  change?"  questioned 
Benson. 

The  quality  would,"  retorted  the  other. 
"The  address  also  would  not  be  good.  Seri- 
ously, Jem,  will  you  let  me  have  the  fifteen 
hundred?" 

"No,"  said  the  other,  simply. 


The  Well  85 


Carr  went  white.  "It's  to  save  me  from 
ruin,"  he  said,  thickly. 

"I've  helped  you  till  I'm  tired,"  said  Benson, 
turning  and  regarding  him,  "and  it  is  all  to  no 
good.  If  you've  got  into  a  mess,  get  out  of 
it.  You  should  not  be  so  fond  of  giving  auto- 
graphs away." 

"It's  foolish,  I  admit,"  said  Carr,  deliberate- 
ly. "I  won't  do  so  any  more.  By  the  way, 
I've  got  some  to  sell.  You  needn't  sneer. 
They're  not  my  own." 

"Whose  are  they?"  inquired  the  other. 

"Yours." 

Benson  got  up  from  his  chair  and  crossed 
over  to  him.  "What  is  this  ?"  he  asked,  quiet- 
ly. "Blackmail?" 

"Call  it  what  you  like,"  said  Carr.  "I've 
got  some  letters  for  sale,  price  fifteen  hundred. 
And  I  know  a  man  who  would  buy  them  at  that 
price  for  the  mere  chance  of  getting  Olive  from 
you.  I'll  give  you  first  offer." 

"If  you  have  got  any  letters  bearing  my  sig- 
nature, you  will  be  good  enough  to  give  them 
to  me,"  said  Benson,  very  slowly. 

"They're  mine,"  said  Carr,  lightly;  "given 


86    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

to  me  by  the  lady  you  wrote  them  to.  I  must 
say  that  they  are  not  all  in  the  best  possible 
taste." 

His  cousin  reached  forward  suddenly,  and 
catching  him  by  the  collar  of  his  coat  pinned 
him  down  on  the  table. 

"Give  me  those  letters,"  he  breathed,  sticking 
his  face  close  to  Carr's. 

"They're  not  here,"  said  Carr,  struggling. 
I'm  not  a  fool.  Let  me  go,  or  I'll  raise  the 
price." 

The  other  man  raised  him  from  the  table  in 
his  powerful  hands,  apparently  with  the  inten- 
tion of  dashing  his  head  against  it.  Then  sud- 
denly his  hold  relaxed  as  an  astonished-look- 
ing  maid-servant  entered  the  room  with  letters. 
Carr  sat  up  hastily. 

"That's  how  it  was  done,"  said  Benson,  for 
the  girl's  benefit  as  he  took  the  letters. 

"I  don't  wonder  at  the  other  man  making 
him  pay  for  it,  then,"  said  Carr,  blandly. 

"You  will  give  me  those  letters  ?"  said  Ben- 
son, suggestively,  as  the  girl  left  the  room. 

"At  the  price  I  mentioned,  yes,"  said  Carr; 
"but  so  sure  as  I  am  a  living  man,  if  you  lay 


The  Well  87 


your  clumsy  hands  on  me  again,  I'll  double  it. 
Now,  I'll  leave  you  for  a  time  while  you  think 
it  over." 

He  took  a  cigar  from  the  box  and  lighting  it 
carefully  quitted  the  room.  His  cousin  waited 
until  the  door  had  closed  behind  him,  and  then 
turning  to  the  window  sat  there  in  a  fit  of  fury 
as  silent  as  it  was  terrible. 

The  air  was  fresh  and  sweet  from  the  park, 
heavy  with  the  scent  of  new-mown  grass. 
The  fragrance  of  a  cigar  was  now  added  to  it, 
and  glancing  out  he  saw  his  cousin  pacing 
slowly  by.  He  rose  and  went  to  the  door,  and 
then,  apparently  altering  his  mind,  he  returned 
to  the  window  and  watched  the  figure  of  his 
cousin  as  it  moved  slowly  away  into  the  moon- 
light. Then  he  rose  again,  and,  for  a  long 
time,  the  room  was  empty. 


It  was  empty  when  Mrs.  Benson  came  in 
some  time  later  to  say  good-night  to  her  son  on 
her  way  to  bed.  She  walked  slowly  round  the 
table,  and  pausing  at  the  window  gazed  from  it 
in  idle  thought,  until  she  saw  the  figure  of  her 


88     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

son  advancing  with  rapid  strides  toward  the 
house.  He  looked  up  at  the  window. 

"Good-night,"  said  she. 

"Good-night,"  said  Benson,  in  a  deep  voice. 

"Where  is  Wilfred?" 

"Oh,  he  has  gone,"  said  Benson. 

"Gone?" 

"We  had  a  few  words;  he  was  wanting 
money  again,  and  I  gave  him  a  piece  of  my 
mind.  I  don't  think  we  shall  see  him  again." 

"Poor  Wilfred!"  sighed  Mrs.  Benson.  "He 
is  always  in  trouble  of  some  sort.  I  hope  that 
you  were  not  too  hard  upon  him." 

"No  more  than  he  deserved,"  said  her  son, 
sternly.  "Good  night." 


II. 


THE  well,  which  had  long  ago  fallen  into 
disuse,  was  almost  hidden  by  the  thick  tangle 
of  undergrowth  which  ran  riot  at  that  corner 
of  the  old  park.  It  was  partly  covered  by  the 
shrunken  half  of  a  lid,  above  which  a  rusty 
windlass  creaked  in  company  with  the  music  of 
the  pines  when  the  wind  blew  strongly.  The 
full  light  of  the  sun  never  reached  it,  and  the 
ground  surrounding  it  was  moist  and  green 
when  other  parts  of  the  park  were  gaping  with 
the  heat. 

Two  people  walking  slowly  round  the  park 
in  the  fragrant  stillness  of  a  summer  evening 
strayed  in  the  direction  of  the  well. 

"No  use  going  through  this  wilderness, 
Olive,"  said  Benson,  pausing  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  pines  and  eyeing  with  some  disfavour 
the  gloom  beyond. 

"Best  part  of  the  park,"  said  the  girl  briskly ; 
"you  know  it's  my  favourite  spot." 


go    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"I  know  you're  very  fond  of  sitting  on  the 
coping,"  said  the  man  slowly,  "and  I  wish  you 
wouldn't.  One  day  you  will  lean  back  too  far 
and  fall  in." 

"And  make  the  acquaintance  of  Truth,"  said 
Olive  lightly.  "Come  along." 

She  ran  from  him  and  was  lost  in  the  shadow 
of  the  pines,  the  bracken  crackling  beneath  her 
feet  as  she  ran.  Her  companion  followed 
slowly,  and  emerging  from  the  gloom  saw  her 
poised  daintily  on  the  edge  of  the  well  with  her 
feet  hidden  in  the  rank  grass  and  nettles  which 
surrounded  it.  She  motioned  her  companion 
to  take  a  seat  by  her  side,  and  smiled  softly  as 
she  felt  a  strong  arm  passed  about  her  waist. 

"I  like  this  place,"  said  she,  breaking  a  long 
silence,  "it  is  so  dismal — so  uncanny.  Do  you 
know  I  wouldn't  dare  to  sit  here  alone,  Jem.  I 
should  imagine  that  all  sorts  of  dreadful  things 
were  hidden  behind  the  bushes  and  trees,  wait- 
ing to  spring  out  on  me.  Ugh !" 

"You'd  better  let  me  take  you  in,"  said  her 
companion  tenderly;  "the  well  isn't  always 
wholesome,  especially  in  the  hot  weather. 
Let's  make  a  move." 


The  Well  91 


The  girl  gave  an  obstinate  little  shake,  and 
settled  herself  more  securely  on  her  seat. 

"Smoke  your  cigar  in  peace,"  she  said 
quietly.  "I  am  settled  here  for  a  quiet 
talk.  Has  anything  been  heard  of  Wilfred 
yet?" 

"Nothing." 

"Quite  a  dramatic  disappearance,  isn't  it?" 
she  continued.  "Another  scrape,  I  suppose, 
and  another  letter  for  you  in  the  same  old 
strain;  'Dear  Jem,  help  me  out/  ' 

Jem  Benson  blew  a  cloud  of  fragrant  smoke 
into  the  air,  and  holding  his  cigar  between  his 
teeth  brushed  away  the  ash  from  his  coat 
sleeves. 

"I  wonder  what  he  would  have  done  without 
you,"  said  the  girl,  pressing  his  arm  affection- 
ately. "Gone  under  long  ago,  I  suppose. 
When  we  are  married,  Jem,  I  shall  presume 
upon  the  relationship  to  lecture  him.  He  is 
very  wild,  but  he  has  his  good  points,  poor  fel- 
low." 

"I  never  saw  them,"  said  Benson,  with  start- 
ling bitterness.  "God  knows  I  never  saw 
them." 


92     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"He  is  nobody's  enemy  but  his  own,"  said 
the  girl,  startled  by  this  outburst. 

"You  don't  know  much  about  him,"  said  the 
other,  sharply.  "He  was  not  above  black- 
mail ;  not  above  ruining  the  life  of  a  friend  to 
do  himself  a  benefit.  A  loafer,  a  cur,  and 
a  liar!" 

The  girl  looked  up  at  him  soberly  but  timidly 
and  took  his  arm  without  a  word,  and  they 
both  sat  silent  while  evening  deepened  into 
night  and  the  beams  of  the  moon,  filtering 
through  the  branches,  surrounded  them  with  a 
silver  network.  Her  head  sank  upon  his 
shoulder,  till  suddenly  with  a  sharp  cry  she 
sprang  to  her  feet. 

"What  was  that?"  she  cried  breathlessly. 

"What  was  what?"  demanded  Benson, 
springing  up  and  clutching  her  fast  by  the 
arm. 

She  caught  her  breath  and  tried  to  laugh. 
"You're  hurting  me,  Jem." 

His  hold  relaxed. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  he  asked  gently. 
"What  was  it  startled  you  ?" 

"I  was  startled,"  she  said,  slowly,  putting 


The  Well  93 


her  hands  on  his  shoulder.  "I  suppose  the 
words  I  used  just  now  are  ringing  in  my  ears, 
but  I  fancied  that  somebody  behind  us  whis- 
pered 'Jem,  help  me  out.1 ' 

"Fancy,"  repeated  Benson,  and  his  voice 
shook;  "but  these  fancies  are  not  good  for 
you.  You — are  frightened — at  the  dark  and 
the  gloom  of  these  trees.  Let  me  take  you 
back  to  the  house." 

"No,  I'm  not  frightened/'  said  the  girl,  re- 
seating herself.  "I  should  never  be  really 
frightened  of  anything  when  you  were  with 
me,  Jem.  I'm  surprised  at  myself  for  being  so 
silly." 

The  man  made  no  reply  but  stood,  a  strong, 
dark  figure,  a  yard  or  two  from  the  well,  as 
though  waiting  for  her  to  join  him. 

"Come  and  sit  down,  sir,"  cried  Olive,  pat- 
ting the  brickwork  with  her  small,  white  hand, 
"one  would  think  that  you  did  not  like  your 
company." 

He  obeyed  slowly  and  took  a  seat  by  Her 
side,  drawing  so  hard  at  his  cigar  that  the  light 
of  it  shone  upon  his  face  at  every  breath.  He 
passed  his  arm,  firm  and  rigid  as  steel,  behind 


94    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

her,  with  his  hand  resting  on  the  brickwork  be- 
yond. 

"Are  you  warm  enough?"  he  asked  tender- 
ly, as  she  made  a  little  movement. 

"Pretty  fair,"  she  shivered;  "one  oughtn't 
to  be  cold  at  this  time  of  the  year,  but  there's  a 
cold,  damp  air  comes  up  from  the  well." 

As  she  spoke  a  faint  splash  sounded  from  the 
depths  below,  and  for  the  second  time  that 
evening,  she  sprang  from  the  well  with  a  little 
cry  of  dismay. 

"What  is  it  now?"  he  asked  in  a  fearful 
voice.  He  stood  by  her  side  and  gazed  at  the 
well,  as  though  half  expecting  to  see  the  cause 
of  her  alarm  emerge  from  it. 

"Oh,  my  bracelet,"  she  cried  in  distress,  "my 
poor  mother's  bracelet.  I've  dropped  it  down 
the  well." 

"Your  bracelet!"  repeated  Benson,  dully. 
"Your  bracelet?  The  diamond  one?" 

"The  one  that  was  my  mother's,"  said  Olive. 
"Oh,  we  can  get  it  back  surely.  We  must  have 
the  water  drained  off." 

"Your  bracelet !"  repeated  Benson,  stupidly. 


The  Well  95 


"Jem,"  said  the  girl  in  terrified  tones,  "dear 
Jem,  what  is  the  matter?" 

For  the  man  she  loved  was  standing  regard- 
ing her  with  horror.  The  moon  which  touched 
it  was  not  responsible  for  all  the  whiteness  of 
the  distorted  face,  and  she  shrank  back  in  fear 
to  the  edge  of  the  well.  He  saw  her  fear  and 
by  a  mighty  effort  regained  his  composure  and 
took  her  hand. 

"Poor  little  girl,"  he  murmured,  "you  fright- 
ened me.  I  was  not  looking  when  you  cried, 
and  I  thought  that  you  were  slipping  from  my 
arms,  down — down " 

His  voice  broke,  and  the  girl  throwing  her- 
self into  his  arms  clung  to  him  convulsively. 

"There,  there,"  said  Benson,  fondly,  "don't 
cry,  don't  cry." 

"To-morrow,"  said  Olive,  half-laughing, 
half-crying,  "we  will  all  come  round  the  well 
with  hook  and  line  and  fish  for  it.  It  will  be 
quite  a  new  sport." 

"No,  we  must  try  some  other  way,"  said 
Benson.  "You  shall  have  it  back." 

"How?"  asked  the  girl. 

"You  shall  see,"  said  Benson.     "To-morrow 


96     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

morning  at  latest  you  shall  have  it  back.  Till 
then  promise  me  that  you  will  not  mention 
your  loss  to  anyone.  Promise." 

"I  promise,"  said  Olive,  wonderingly.  "But 
why  not  ?" 

"It  is  of  great  value,  for  one  thing,  and — 
But  there — there  are  many  reasons.  For  one 
thing  it  is  my  duty  to  get  it  for  you." 

"Wouldn't  you  like  to  jump  down  for  it?" 
she  asked  mischievously.  "Listen." 

She  stooped  for  a  stone  and  dropped  it  down. 

"Fancy  being  where  that  is  now,"  she  said, 
peering  into  the  blackness ;  "fancy  going  round 
and  round  like  a  mouse  in  a  pail,  clutching  at 
the  slimy  sides,  with  the  water  filling  your 
mouth,  and  looking  up  to  the  little  patch  of  sky 
above." 

"You  had  better  come  in,"  said  Benson,  very 
quietly.  "You  are  developing  a  taste  for  the 
morbid  and  horrible." 

The  girl  turned,  and  taking  his  arm  walked 
slowly  in  the  direction  of  the  house ;  Mrs.  Ben- 
son, who  was  sitting  in  the  porch,  rose  to  re- 
ceive them. 

"You    shouldn't    have    kept    her    out    so 


The  Well  97 


long,"  she  said  chidingly.  "Where  have  you 
been?" 

"Sitting  on  the  well,"  said  Olive,  smiling, 
"discussing  our  future." 

"I  don't  believe  that  place  is  healthy,"  said 
Mrs.  Benson,  emphatically.  "I  really  think  it 
might  be  filled  in,  Jem." 

"All  right,"  said  her  son,  slowly.  "Pity  it 
wasn't  filled  in  long  ago." 

He  took  the  chair  vacated  by  his  mother  as 
she  entered  the  house  with  Olive,  and  with  his 
hands  hanging  limply  over  the  sides  sat  in  deep 
thought.  After  a  time  he  rose,  and  going  up- 
stairs to  a  room  which  was  set  apart  for  sport- 
ing requisites  selected  a  sea  fishing  line  and 
some  hooks  and  stole  softly  downstairs  again. 
He  walked  swiftly  across  the  park  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  well,  turning  before  he  entered  the 
shadow  of  the  trees  to  look  back  at  the  lighted 
windows  of  the  house.  Then  having  ar- 
ranged his  line  he  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  well 
and  cautiously  lowered  it. 

He  sat  with  his  lips  compressed,  occasion- 
ally looking  about  him  in  a  startled  fashion,  as 
though  he  half  expected  to  see  something  peer- 


98     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

ing  at  him  from  the  belt  of  trees.  Time  after 
time  he  lowered  his  line  until  at  length  in  pull- 
ing it  up  he  heard  a  little  metallic  tinkle  against 
the  side  of  the  well. 

He  held  his  breath  then,  and  forgetting  his 
fears  drew  the  line  in  inch  by  inch,  so  as  not  to 
lose  its  precious  burden.  His  pulse  beat  rapid- 
ly, and  his  eyes  were  bright.  As  the  line  came 
slowly  in  he  saw  the  catch  hanging  to  the  hook, 
and  with  a  steady  hand  drew  the  last  few  feet 
in.  Then  he  saw  that  instead  of  the  bracelet 
he  had  hooked  a  bunch  of  keys. 

With  a  faint  cry  he  shook  them  from  the 
hook  into  the  water  below,  and  stood  breathing 
heavily.  Not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness  of  the 
night.  He  walked  up  and  down  a  bit  and 
stretched  his  great  muscles ;  then  he  came  back 
to  the  well  and  resumed  his  task. 

For  an  hour  or  more  the  line  was  lowered 
without  result.  In  his  eagerness  he  forgot  his 
fears,  and  with  eyes  bent  down  the  well  fished 
slowly  and  carefully.  Twice  the  hook  became 
entangled  in  something,  and  was  with  difficulty 
released.  It  caught  a  third  time,  and  all  his 
efforts  failed  to  free  it.  Then  he  dropped  the 


The  Well  99 


line  down  the  well,  and  with  head  bent  walked 
toward  the  house. 

He  went  first  to  the  stables  at  the  rear,  and 
then  retiring  to  his  room  for  some  time  paced 
restlessly  up  and  down.  Then  without  remov- 
ing his  clothes  he  flung  himself  upon  the  bed 
and  fell  into  a  troubled  sleep. 


III. 


LONG  before  anybody  else  was  astir  he  arose 
and  stole  softly  downstairs.  The  sunlight  was 
stealing  in  at  every  crevice,  and  flashing  in 
long  streaks  across  the  darkened  rooms.  The 
dining-room  into  which  he  looked  struck  chill 
and  cheerless  in  the  dark  yellow  light  which 
came  through  the  lowered  blinds.  He  remem- 
bered that  it  had  the  same  appearance  when  his 
father  lay  dead  in  the  house;  now,  as  then, 
everything  seemed  ghastly  and  unreal ;  the  very 
chairs  standing  as  their  occupants  had  left  them 
the  night  before  seemed  to  be  indulging  in 
some  dark  communication  of  ideas. 

Slowly  and  noiselessly  he  opened  the  hall 
door  and  passed  into  the  fragrant  air  beyond. 
The  sun  was  shining  on  the  drenched  grass  and 
trees,  and  a  slowly  vanishing  white  mist  rolled 
like  smoke  about  the  grounds.  For  a  moment 
he  stood,  breathing  deeply  the  sweet  air  of  the 


The  Well  101 


morning,  and  then  walked  slowly  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  stables. 

The  rusty  creaking  of  a  pump-handle  and  a 
spatter  of  water  upon  the  red-tiled  courtyard 
showed  that  somebody  else  was  astir,  and  a  few 
steps  farther  he  beheld  a  brawny,  sandy- 
haired  man  gasping  wildly  under  severe  self- 
infliction  at  the  pump. 

"Everything  ready,  George?"  he  asked 
quietly. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  man,  straightening  up 
suddenly  and  touching  his  forehead.  "Bob's 
just  finishing  the  arrangements  inside.  It's  a 
lovely  morning  for  a  dip.  The  water  in  that 
well  must  be  just  icy." 

"Be  as  quick  as  you  can,"  said  Benson,  im- 
patiently. 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  George,  burnishing 
his  face  harshly  with  a  very  small  towel  which 
had  been  hanging  over  the  top  of  the  pump. 
"Hurry  up,  Bob." 

In  answer  to  his  summons  a  man  appeared  at 
the  door  of  the  stable  with  a  coil  of  stout  rope 
over  his  arm  and  a  large  metal  candlestick  in 
his  hand. 


io2    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Just  to  try  the  air,  sir,"  said  George,  follow- 
ing his  master's  glance,  "a  well  gets  rather  foul 
sometimes,  but  if  a  candle  can  live  down  it,  a 
man  can." 

His  master  nodded,  and  the  man,  hastily 
pulling  up  the  neck  of  his  shirt  and  thrusting 
his  arms  into  his  coat,  followed  him  as  he  led 
the  way  slowly  to  the  well. 

"Beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  George,  drawing 
up  to  his  side,  "but  you  are  not  looking  over 
and  above  well  this  morning.  If  you'll  let  me 
go  down  I'd  enjoy  the  bath." 

"No,  no,"  said  Benson,  peremptorily. 

"You  ain't  fit  to  go  down,  sir,"  persisted  his 
follower.  "I've  never  seen  you  look  so  before. 
Now  if " 

"Mind  your  business,"  said  his  master 
curtly. 

George  became  silent  and  the  three  walked 
with  swinging  strides  through  the  long  wet 
grass  to  the  well.  Bob  flung  the  rope  on  the 
ground  and  at  a  sign  from  his  master  handed 
him  the  candlestick. 

"Here's  the  line  for  it,  sir,"  said  Bob,  fum- 
bling in  his  pockets. 


The  Well  103 


Benson  took  it  from  him  and  slowly  tied 
it  to  the  candlestick.  Then  he  placed  it 
on  the  edge  of  the  well,  and  striking  a 
match,  lit  the  candle  and  began  slowly  to 
lower  it. 

"Hold  hard,  sir,"  said  George,  quickly,  lay- 
ing his  hand  on  his  arm,  "you  must  tilt  it  or  the 
string'll  burn  through." 

Even  as  he  spoke  the  string  parted  and  the 
candlestick  fell  into  the  water  below. 

Benson  swore  quietly. 

"I'll  soon  get  another,"  said  George,  start- 
ing up. 

"Never  mind,  the  well's  all  right,"  said  Ben- 
son. 

"It  won't  take  a  moment,  sir,"  said  the  other 
over  his  shoulder. 

"Are  you  master  here,  or  am  I  ?"  said  Ben- 
son hoarsely. 

George  came  back  slowly,  a  glance  at  his 
master's  face  stopping  the  protest  upon  his 
tongue,  and  he  stood  by  watching  him  sulkily 
as  he  sat  on  the  well  and  removed  his 
outer  garments.  Both  men  watched  him  curi- 
ously, as  having  completed  his  preparations 


IO4    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

he  stood  grim  and  silent  with  his  hands  by  his 
sides. 

"I  wish  you'd  let  me  go,  sir,"  said  George, 
plucking  up  courage  to  address  him.  "You 
ain't  fit  to  go,  you've  got  a  chill  or  something. 
I  shouldn't  wonder  it's  the  typhoid.  They've 
got  it  in  the  village  bad." 

For  a  moment  Benson  looked  at  him  angrily, 
then  his  gaze  softened.  "Not  this  time, 
George,"  he  said,  quietly.  He  took  the  looped 
end  of  the  rope  and  placed  it  under  his  arms, 
and  sitting  down  threw  one  leg  over  the  side  of 
the  well. 

"How  are  you  going  about  it,  sir?"  queried 
George,  laying  hold  of  the  rope  and  signing  to 
Bob  to  do  the  same. 

"I'll  call  out  when  I  reach  the  water,"  said 
Benson;  "then  pay  out  three  yards  more 
quickly  so  that  I  can  get  to  the  bottom." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  answered  both. 

Their  master  threw  the  other  leg  over  the 
coping  and  sat  motionless.  His  back  was 
turned  toward  the  men  as  he  sat  with  head 
bent,  looking  down  the  shaft.  He  sat  for  so 
long  that  George  became  uneasy. 


The  Well  105 


"All  right,  sir?"  he  inquired. 

"Yes,"  said  Benson,  slowly.  "If  I  tug  at 
the  rope,  George,  pull  up  at  once.  Lower 
away." 

The  rope  passed  steadily  through  their  hands 
until  a  hollow  cry  from  the  darkness  below  and 
a  faint  splashing  warned  them  that  he  had 
reached  the  water.  They  gave  him  three  yards 
more  and  stood  with  relaxed  grasp  and  strained 
ears,  waiting. 

"He's  gone  under,"  said  Bob  in  a  low  voice. 

The  other  nodded,  and  moistening  his  huge 
palms  took  a  firmer  grip  of  the  rope. 

Fully  a  minute  passed,  and  the  men  began 
to  exchange  uneasy  glances.  Then  a  sudden 
tremendous  jerk  followed  by  a  series  of 
feebler  ones  nearly  tore  the  rope  from  their 
grasp. 

"Pull !"  shouted  George,  placing  one  foot  on 
the  side  and  hauling  desperately.  "Pull !  pull ! 
He's  stuck  fast;  he's  not  coming;  P — U — 
LL!" 

In  response  to  their  terrific  exertions  the  rope 
came  slowly  in,  inch  by  inch,  until  at  length  a 
violent  splashing  was  heard,  and  at  the  same 


106    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

moment  a  scream  of  unutterable  horror  came 
echoing  up  the  shaft. 

"What  a  weight  he  is !"  panted  Bob.  "He's 
stuck  fast  or  something.  Keep  still,  si/;  for 
heaven's  sake,  keep  still." 

For  the  taut  rope  was  being  jerked  violent- 
ly by  the  struggles  of  the  weight  at  the  end  of 
it.  Both  men  with  grunts  and  sighs  hauled  it 
in  foot  by  foot. 

"All  right,  sir,"  cried  George,  cheerfully. 

He  had  one  foot  against  the  well,  and  was 
pulling  manfully;  the  burden  was  nearing  the 
top.  A  long  pull  and  a  strong  pull,  and  the 
face  of  a  dead  man  with  mud  in  the  eyes  and 
nostrils  came  peering  over  the  edge.  Behind 
it  was  the  ghastly  face  of  his  master;  but  this 
he  saw  too  late,  for  with  a  great  cry  he  let  go 
his  hold  of  the  rope  and  stepped  back.  The 
suddenness  overthrew  his  assistant,  and  the 
rope  tore  through  his  hands.  There  was  a 
frightful  splash. 

"You  fool !"  stammered  Bob,  and  ran  to  the 
well  helplessly. 

"Run !  "  cried  George.  "Run  for  another 
line." 


The  Well  107 


He  bent  over  the  coping  and  called  eagerly 
down  as  his  assistant  sped  back  to  the  stables 
shouting  wildly.  His  voice  re-echoed  down 
the  shaft,  but  all  else  was  silence. 


r 

I  Cupboard  Love 

9'^^ 


CUPBOARD    LOVE 

IN  the  comfortable  living-room  at  Negget's 
farm,  half  parlour  and  half  kitchen,  three  peo- 
ple sat  at  tea  in  the  waning  light  of  a  Novem- 
ber afternoon.  Conversation,  which  had  been 
brisk,  had  languished  somewhat,  owing  to  Mrs. 
Negget  glancing  at  frequent  intervals  toward 
the  door,  behind  which  she  was  convinced  the 
servant  was  listening,  and  checking  the  finest 
periods  and  the  most  startling  suggestions  with 
a  warning  'ssh! 

"Go  on,  uncle,"  she  said,  after  one  of  these 
interruptions. 

"I  forget  where  I  was,'*  said  Mr.  Martin 
Bodfish,  shortly. 

"Under  our  bed,"  Mr.  Negget  reminded 
him. 

"Yes,  watching,"  said  Mrs.  Negget,  eagerly. 

It  was  an  odd  place  for  an  ex-policeman,  es- 
pecially as  a  small  legacy  added  to  his  pension 


ii2    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

had  considerably  improved  his  social  position, 
but  Mr.  Bodfish  had  himself  suggested  it  in  the 
professional  hope  that  the  person  who  had 
taken  Mrs.  Negget's  gold  brooch  might  try  for 
further  loot.  He  had,  indeed,  suggested  bait- 
ing the  dressing-table  with  the  farmer's  watch, 
an  idea  which  Mr.  Negget  had  promptly  ve- 
toed. 

"I  can't  help  thinking  that  Mrs.  Pottle  knows 
something  about  it,"  said  Mrs.  Negget,  with  an 
indignant  glance  at  her  husband. 

"Mrs.  Pottle,"  said  the  farmer,  rising  slowly 
and  taking  a  seat  on  the  oak  settle  built  in  the 
fireplace,  "has  been  away  from  the  village  for 
near  a  fortnit." 

"I  didn't  say  she  took  it,"  snapped  his  wife. 
"I  said  I  believe  she  knows  something  about  it, 
and  so  I  do.  She's  a  horrid  woman.  Look 
at  the  way  she  encouraged  her  girl  Looey  to 
run  after  that  young  traveller  from  Smithson's. 
The  whole  fact  of  the  matter  is,  it  isn't  your 
brooch,  so  you  don't  care." 

"I  said "  began  Mr.  Negget. 

"I  know  what  you  said,"  retorted  his  wife, 
sharply,  "anrl  I  wish  you'd  be  quiet  and  not  in- 


Cupboard  Love         113 

terrupt  uncle.  Here's  my  uncle  been  in  the 
police  twenty-five  years,  and  you  won't  let  him 
put  a  word  in  edgeways.' 

"My  way  o'  looking  at  it,"  said  the  ex-police- 
man, slowly,  "is  different  to  that  o'  the  law; 
my  idea  is,  an'  always  has  been,  that  everybody 
is  guilty  until  they've  proved  their  innocence." 

"It's  a  wonderful  thing  to  me,"  said  Mr. 
Negget  in  a  low  voice  to  his  pipe,  "as  they 
should  come  to  a  house  with  a  retired  police- 
man living  in  it.  Looks  to  me  like  somebody 
that  ain't  got  much  respect  for  the  police." 

The  ex-policeman  got  up  from  the  table,  and 
taking  a  seat  on  the  settle  opposite  the  speaker, 
slowly  filled  a  long  clay  and  took  a  spill  from 
the  fireplace.  His  pipe  lit,  he  turned  to  his 
niece,  and  slowly  bade  her  go  over  the  account 
of  her  loss  once  more. 

"I  missed  it  this  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Neg- 
get, rapidly,  "at  ten  minutes  past  twelve  o'clock 
by  the  clock,  and  half-past  five  by  my  watch 
which  wants  looking  to.  I'd  just  put  the  batch 
of  bread  into  the  oven,  and  gone  upstairs  and 
opened  the  box  that  stands  on  my  drawers  to 

get  a  lozenge,  and  I  missed  the  brooch." 

I 


ii4    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Do  you  keep  it  in  that  box?"  asked  the  ex- 
policeman,  slowly. 

"Always,"  replied  his  niece.  "I  at  once 
came  down  stairs  and  told  Emma  that  the 
brooch  had  been  stolen.  I  said  that  I  named 
no  names,  and  didn't  wish  to  think  bad  of  any- 
body, and  that  if  I  found  the  brooch  back  in  the 
box  when  I  went  up  stairs  again,  I  should  for- 
give whoever  took  it." 

"And  what  did  Emma  say?"  inquired  Mr. 
Bodfish. 

"Emma  said  a  lot  o'  things,"  replied  Mrs. 
Negget,  angrily.  "I'm  sure  by  the  lot  she  had 
to  say  you'd  ha'  thought  she  was  the  missis  and 
me  the  servant.  I  gave  her  a  month's  notice 
at  once,  and  she  went  straight  up  stairs  and  sat 
on  her  box  and  cried." 

"Sat  on  her  box?"  repeated  the  ex-consta- 
ble, impressively.  "Oh!" 

"That's  what  I  thought,"  said  his  niece,  "but 
it  wasn't,  because  I  got  her  off  at  last  and 
searched  it  through  and  through.  I  never  saw 
anything  like  her  clothes  in  all  my  life.  There 
was  hardly  a  button  or  a  tape  on;  and  as  for 
her  stockings " 


Cupboard  Love         115 

"She  don't  get  much  time,"  said  Mr.  Neg- 
get,  slowly. 

"That's  right ;  I  thought  you'd  speak  up  for 
her,"  cried  his  wife,  shrilly. 

"Look  here "  began  Mr.  Negget,  laying 

his  pipe  on  the  seat  by  his  side  and  rising  slow- 

iy. 

"Keep  to  the  case  in  hand,"  said  the  ex- 
constable,  waving  him  back  to  his  seat  again. 
"Now,  Lizzie." 

"I  searched  her  box  through  and  through," 
said  his  niece,  "but  it  wasn't  there ;  then  I  came 
down  again  and  had  a  rare  good  cry  all  to  my- 
self." 

"That's  the  best  way  for  you  to  have  it," 
remarked  Mr.  Negget,  feelingly. 

Mrs.  Negget's  uncle  instinctively  motioned 
his  niece  to  silence,  and  holding  his  chin  in  his 
hand,  scowled  frightfully  in  the  intensity  of 
thought. 

"See  a  cloo  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Negget,  affably. 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself, 
George,"  said  his  wife,  angrily;  "speaking  to 
uncle  when  he's  looking  like  that." 

Mr.   Bodfish  said  nothing;    it  is  doubtful 


1 1 6    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

whether  he  even  heard  these  remarks;  but  he 
drew  a  huge  notebook  from  his  pocket,  and 
after  vainly  trying  to  point  his  pencil  by  suc- 
tion, took  a  knife  from  the  table  and  hastily 
sharpened  it. 

"Was  the  brooch  there  last  night?"  he  in- 
quired. 

"It  were,"  said  Mr.  Negget,  promptly. 
"Lizzie  made  me  get  up  just  as  the  owd  clock 
were  striking  twelve  to  get  her  a  lozenge." 

"It  seems  pretty  certain  that  the  brooch  went 
since  then,"  mused  Mr.  Bodfish. 

"It  would  seem  like  it  to  a  plain  man,"  said 
Mr.  Negget,  guardedly. 

"I  should  like  to  see  the  box,"  said  Mr.  Bod- 
fish. 

Mrs.  Negget  went  up  and  fetched  it  and 
stood  eyeing  him  eagerly  as  he  raised  the  lid 
and  inspected  the  contents.  It  contained  only 
a  few  lozenges  and  some  bone  studs.  Mr.  Neg- 
get helped  himself  to  a  lozenge,  and  going  back 
to  his  seat,  breathed  peppermint. 

"Properly  speaking,  that  ought  not  to  have 
been  touched,"  said  the  ex-constable,  regarding 
him  with  some  severity. 


Cupboard  Love         117 

"Eh!"  said  the  startled  farmer,  putting  his 
finger  to  his  lips. 

"Never  mind/'  said  the  other,  shaking  his 
head.  "It's  too  late  now." 

"He  doesn't  care  a  bit,"  said  Mrs.  Negget, 
somewhat  sadly.  "He  used  to  keep  buttons  in 
that  box  with  the  lozenges  until  one  night  he 
gave  me  one  by  mistake.  Yes,  you  may  laugh 
— I'm  glad  you  can  laugh." 

Mr.  Negget,  feeling  that  his  mirth  was  cer- 
tainly ill-timed,  shook  for  some  time  in  a  noble 
effort  to  control  himself,  and  despairing  at 
length,  went  into  the  back  place  to  recover. 
Sounds  of  blows  indicative  of  Emma  slapping 
him  on  the  back  did  not  add  to  Mrs.  Negget's 
serenity. 

"The  point  is,"  said  the  ex-constable,  "could 
anybody  have  come  into  your  room  while  you 
was  asleep  and  taken  it?" 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Negget,  decisively.  I'm 
a  very  poor  sleeper,  and  I'd  have  woke  at  once, 
but  if  a  flock  of  elephants  was  to  come  in  the 
room  they  wouldn't  wake  George.  He'd  sleep 
through  anything." 

"Except  her  feeling  under  my  piller  for  her 


1 1 8    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

handkerchief,"  corroborated  Mr.  Negget,  re- 
turning to  the  sitting-room. 

Mr.  Bodfish  .waved  them  to  silence,  and 
again  gave  way  to  deep  thought.  Three  times 
he  took  up  his  pencil,  and  laying  it  down  again, 
sat  and  drummed  on  the  table  with  his  fingers. 
Then  he  arose,  and  with  bent  head  walked 
slowly  round  and  round  the  room  until  he 
stumbled  over  a  stool. 

"Nobody  came  to  the  house  this  morning,  I 
suppose  ?"  he  said  at  length,  resuming  his  seat. 

"Only  Mrs.  Driver,"  said  his  niece. 

"What  time  did  she  come?"  inquired  Mr. 
'Bodfish. 

"Here!  look  here!"  interposed  Mr.  Negget. 
"I've  known  Mrs.  Driver  thirty  year  a'most." 

"What  time  did  she  come?"  repeated  the  ex- 
constable,  pitilessly. 

His  niece  shook  her  head.  "It  might  have 
been  eleven,  and  again  it  might  have  been  ear- 
lier," she  replied.  "I  was  out  when  she  came." 

"Out!"  almost  shouted  the  other. 

Mrs.  Negget  nodded. 

"She  was  sitting  in  here  when  I  came  back." 

Her  uncle  looked  up  and  glanced  at  the  door 


Cupboard  Love         119 

behind  which  a  small  staircase  led  to  the  room 
above. 

"What  was  to  prevent  Mrs.  Driver  going  up 
there  while  you  were  away?"  he  demanded. 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  think  that  of  Mrs. 
Driver,"  said  his  niece,  shaking  her  head ;  "but 
then  in  these  days  one  never  knows  what  might 
happen.  Never.  I've  given  up  thinking 
about  it.  However,  when  I  came  back,  Mrs. 
Driver  was  here,  sitting  in  that  very  chair  you 
are  sitting  in  now." 

Mr.  Bodfish  pursed  up  his  lips  and  made  an- 
other note.  Then  he  took  a  spill  from  the  fire- 
place, and  lighting  a  candle,  went  slowly  and 
carefully  up  the  stairs.  He  found  nothing  on 
them  but  two  caked  rims  of  mud,  and  being  too 
busy  to  notice  Mr.  Negget's  frantic  signalling, 
called  his  niece's  attention  to  them. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  he  demanded, 
triumphantly. 

"Somebody's  been  up  there,"  said  his  niece. 
"It  isn't  Emma,  because  she  hasn't  been  out- 
side the  house  all  day ;  and  it  can't  be  George, 
because  he  promised  me  faithful  he'd  never  go 
up  there  in  his  dirty  boots." 


I2O     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 


Mr.  Negget  coughed,  and  approaching  the 
stairs,  gazed  with  the  eye  of  a  stranger  at  the 
relics  as  Mr.  Bodfish  hotly  rebuked  a  sugges- 
tion of  his  niece's  to  sweep  them  up. 

"Seems  to  me,"  said  the  conscience-stricken 
Mr.  Negget,  feebly,  "as  they're  rather  large  for 


a  woman." 


"Mud  cakes,"  said  Mr.  Bodfish,  with  his 
most  professional  manner;  "a  small  boot 
would  pick  up  a  lot  this  weather." 

"So  it  would,"  said  Mr.  Negget,  and  with 
brazen  effrontery  not  only  met  his  wife's  eye 
without  quailing,  but  actually  glanced  down  at 
her  boots. 

Mr.  Bodfish  came  back  to  his  chair  and  rumi- 
nated. Then  he  looked  up  and  spoke. 

"It  was  missed  this  morning  at  ten  minutes 
past  twelve,"  he  said,  slowly ;  "it  was  there  last 
night.  At  eleven  o'clock  you  came  in  and 
found  Mrs.  Driver  sitting  in  that  chair." 

"No,  the  one  you're  in,"  interrupted  his 
niece. 

"It  don't  signify,"  said  her  uncle.  "No- 
body else  has  been  near  the  place,  and  Emma's 
box  has  been  searched. 


Cupboard  Love         121 

'Thoroughly  searched,"  testified  Mrs.  Neg- 
get. 

"Now  the  point  is,  what  did  Mrs.  Driver 
come  for  this  morning?"  resumed  the  ex-con- 
stable. Did  she  come " 

He  broke  off  and  eyed  with  dignified  sur- 
prise a  fine  piece  of  wireless  telegraphy  be- 
tween husband  and  wife.  It  appeared  that 
Mr.  Negget  sent  off  a  humorous  message  with 
his  left  eye,  the  right  being  for  some  reason 
closed,  to  which  Mrs.  Negget  replied  with  a 
series  of  frowns  and  staccato  shakes  of  the 
head,  which  her  husband  found  easily  trans- 
latable. Under  the  austere  stare  of  Mr.  Bod- 
fish  their  faces  at  once  regained  their  wonted 
calm,  and  the  ex-constable  in  a  somewhat  of- 
fended manner  resumed  his  inquiries. 

"Mrs.  Driver  has  been  here  a  good  bit  late- 
ly," he  remarked,  slowly. 

Mr.  Negget's  eyes  watered,  and  his  mouth 
worked  piteously. 

"If  you  can't  behave  yourself,  George- " 

began  his  wife,  fiercely. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  demanded  Mr.  Bod- 


122     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

fish.  "I'm  not  aware  that  I've  said  anything 
to  be  laughed  at." 

"No  more  you  have,  uncle,"  retorted  his 
niece;  "only  George  is  such  a  stupid.  He's 
got  an  idea  in  his  silly  head  that  Mrs. 
Driver But  it's  all  nonsense,  of  course." 

"I've  merely  got  a  bit  of  an  idea  that  it's  a 
wedding-ring,  not  a  brooch,  Mrs.  Driver  is 
after,"  said  the  farmer  to  the  perplexed  con- 
stable. 

Mr.  Bodfish  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 
"But  you  always  keep  yours  on,  Lizzie,  don't 
you?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  of  course,"  replied  his  niece,  hurried- 
ly; "but  George  has  always  got  such  strange 
ideas.  Don't  take  no  notice  of  him." 

Her  uncle  sat  back  in  his  chair,  his  face  still 
wrinkled  perplexedly;  then  the  wrinkles  van- 
ished suddenly,  chased  away  by  a  huge  glow, 
and  he  rose  wrathfully  and  towered  over  the 
match-making  Mr.  Negget.  "How  dare 
you  ?"  he  gasped. 

Mr.  Negget  made  no  reply,  but  in  a  coward- 
ly fashion  jerked  his  thumb  toward  his  wife. 


Cupboard  Love         123 

"Oh !  George !  How  can  you  say  so  ?"  said 
the  latter. 

"I  should  never  ha'  thought  of  it  by  myself," 
said  the  farmer;  "but  I  think  they'd  make  a 
very  nice  couple,  and  I'm  sure  Mrs.  Driver 
thinks  so." 

The  ex-constable  sat  down  in  wrathful  con- 
fusion, and  taking  up  his  notebook  again, 
watched  over  the  top  of  it  the  silent  charges 
and  countercharges  of  his  niece  and  her  hus- 
band. 

"If  I  put  my  finger  on  the  culprit,"  he  asked 
at  length,  turning  to  his  niece,  "what  do  you 
wish  done  to  her?" 

Mrs.  Negget  regarded  him  with  an  expres- 
sion which  contained  all  the  Christian  virtues 
rolled  into  one. 

"Nothing,"  she  said,  softly.  "I  only  want 
my  brooch  back." 

The  ex-constable  shook  his  head  at  this  leni- 
ency. 

"Well,  do  as  you  please,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"In  the  first  place,  I  want  you  to  ask  Mrs. 
Driver  here  to  tea  to-morrow — oh,  I  don't 
mind  Negget's  ridiculous  ideas — pity  he  hasn't 


124     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

got  something  better  to  think  of;  if  she's 
guilty,  I'll  soon  find  it  out.  I'll  play  with  her 
like  a  cat  with  a  mouse.  I'll  make  her  con- 
vict herself." 

"Look  here!"  said  Mr.  Negget,  with  sudden 
vigour.  "I  won't  have  it.  I  won't  have  no 
woman  asked  here  to  tea  to  be  got  at  like  that. 
There's  only  my  friends  comes  here  to  tea,  and 
if  any  friend  stole  anything  o'  mine,  I'd  be  one 
o'  the  first  to  hush  it  up." 

"'If  they  were  all  like  you,  George,"  said  his 
wife,  angrily,  "where  would  the  law  be?" 

"Or  the  police?"  demanded  Mr.  Bodfish, 
staring  at  him. 

"I  won't  have  it!"  repeated  the  farmer, 
loudly.  "I'm  the  law  here,  and  I'm  the  police 
here.  That  little  tiny  bit  o'  dirt  was  off  my 
boots,  I  dare  say.  I  don't  care  if  it  was." 

"Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Bodfish,  turning  to 
his  indignant  niece;  "if  he  likes  to  look  at  it 
that  way,  there's  nothing  more  to  be  said.  I 
only  wanted  to  get  your  brooch  back  for  you, 
that's  all;  but  if  he's  against  it " 

"I'm  against  your  asking  Mrs.  Driver  here 
to  my  house  to  be  got  at,"  said  the  farmer. 


Cupboard  Love         125 

"O'  course  if  you  can  find  out  who  took  the 
brooch,  and  get  it  back  again  anyway,  that's 
another  matter." 

Mr.  Bodfish  leaned  over  the  table  toward 
his  niece. 

"If  I  get  an  opportunity,  I'll  search  her  cot- 
tage," he  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "Strictly  speak- 
ing, it  ain't  quite  a  legal  thing  to  do,  o'  course, 
but  many  o'  the  finest  pieces  of  detective  work 
have  been  done  by  breaking  the  law.  If  she's  a 
kleptomaniac,  it's  very  likely  lying  about  some- 
where in  the  house." 

He  eyed  Mr.  Negget  closely,  as  though  half 
expecting  another  outburst,  but  none  being 
forthcoming,  sat  back  in  his  chair  again  and 
smoked  in  silence,  while  Mrs.  Negget,  with  a 
carpet-brush  which  almost  spoke,  swept  the 
pieces  of  dried  mud  from  the  stairs. 

Mr.  Negget  was  the  last  to  go  to  bed  that 
night,  and  finishing  his  pipe  over  the  dying  fire, 
sat  for  some  time  in  deep  thought.  He  had 
from  the  first  raised  objections  to  the  presence 
of  Mr.  Bodfish  at  the  farm,  but  family  affec- 
tion, coupled  with  an  idea  of  testamentary 
benefits,  had  so  wrought  with  his  wife  that  he 


126     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

had  allowed  her  to  have  her  own  way.  Now 
he  half  fancied  that  he  saw  a  chance  of  getting 
rid  of  him.  If  he  could  only  enable  the  widow 
to  catch  him  searching  her  house,  it  was  highly 
probable  that  the  ex-constable  would  find  the 
village  somewhat  too  hot  to  hold  him.  He 
gave  his  right  leg  a  congratulatory  slap  as  he 
thought  of  it,  and  knocking  the  ashes  from  his 
pipe,  went  slowly  up  to  bed. 

He  was  so  amiable  next  morning  that  Mr. 
Bodfish,  who  was  trying  to  explain  to  Mrs. 
Negget  the  difference  between  theft  and  klepto- 
mania, spoke  before  him  freely.  The  ex-con- 
stable defined  kleptomania  as  a  sort  of  amiable 
weakness  found  chiefly  among  the  upper  cir- 
cles, and  cited  the  case  of  a  lady  of  title  whose 
love  of  diamonds,  combined  with  great  hos- 
pitality, was  a  source  of  much  embarrassment 
to  her  guests. 

For  the  whole  of  that  day  Mr.  Bodfish  hung 
about  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  widow's  cot- 
tage, but  in  vain, 'and  it  would  be  hard  to  say 
whether  he  or  Mr.  Negget,  who  had  been  dis- 
creetly shadowing  him,  felt  the  disappointment 
most.  On  the  day  following,  however,  the  ex- 


Cupboard  Love         127 

constable  from  a  distant  hedge  saw  a  friend  of 
the  widow's  enter  the  cottage,  and  a  little  later 
both  ladies  emerged  and  walked  up  the  road. 

He  watched  them  turn  the  corner,  and  then, 
with  a  cautious  glance  round,  which  failed, 
however,  to  discover  Mr.  Negget,  the  ex-con- 
stable strolled  casually  in  the  direction  of  the 
cottage,  and  approaching  it  from  the  rear, 
turned  the  handle  of  the  door  and  slipped  in. 

He  searched  the  parlour  hastily,  and  then, 
after  a  glance  from  the  window,  ventured  up 
stairs.  And  he  was  in  the  thick  of  his  self- 
imposed  task  when  his  graceless  nephew  by 
marriage,  who  had  met  Mrs.  Driver  and  re- 
ferred pathetically  to  a  raging  thirst  which  he 
had  hoped  to  have  quenched  with  some  of  her 
home-brewed,  brought  the  ladies  hastily  back 
again. 

"I'll  go  round  the  back  way,"  said  the  wily 
Negget  as  they  approached  the  cottage.  "I 
just  want  to  have  a  look  at  that  pig  of  yours." 

He  reached  the  back  door  at  the  same  time  as 
Mr.  Bodfish,  and  placing  his  legs  apart,  held  it 
firmly  against  the  frantic  efforts  of  the  ex-con- 
stable. The  struggle  ceased  suddenly,  and  the 


128     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

door  opened  easily  just  as  Mrs.  Driver  and  her 
friend  appeared  in  the  front  room,  and  the  far- 
mer, with  a  keen  glance  at  the  door  of  the  lar- 
der which  had  just  closed,  took  a  chair  while 
his  hostess  drew  a  glass  of  beer  from  the  barrel 
in  the  kitchen. 

Mr.  Negget  drank  gratefully  and  praised  the 
brew.  From  beer  the  conversation  turned 
naturally  to  the  police,  and  from  the  police  to 
the  listening  Mr.  Bodfish,  who  was  economiz- 
ing space  by  sitting  on  the  bread-pan,  and  trem- 
bling with  agitation. 

"He's  a  lonely  man,"  said  Negget,  shaking 
his  head  and  glancing  from  the  corner  of  his 
eye  at  the  door  of  the  larder.  In  his  wildest 
dreams  he  had  not  imagined  so  choice  a  posi- 
tion, and  he  resolved  to  give  full  play  to  an  idea 
which  suddenly  occurred  to  him. 

"I  dare  say,"  said  Mrs.  Driver,  carelessly, 
conscious  that  her  friend  was  watching  her. 

"And  the  heart  of  a  little  child,"  said  Neg- 
get; "you  wouldn't  believe  how  simple  he  is." 

Mrs.  Clowes  said  that  it  did  him  credit,  but, 
speaking  for  herself,  she  hadn't  noticed  it. 


Cupboard  Love         129 

"He  was  talking  about  you  night  before 
last,"  said  Negget,  turning  to  his  hostess ;  "not 
that  that's  anything  fresh.  He  always  is  talk- 
ing about  you  nowadays." 

The  widow  coughed  confusedly  and  told  him 
not  to  be  foolish. 

"Ask  my  wife,"  said  the  farmer,  impressive- 
ly; "they  were  talking  about  you  for  hours. 
He's  a  very  shy  man  is  my  wife's  uncle,  but  you 
should  see  his  face  change  when  your  name's 
mentioned." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Mr.  Bodfish's  face  was 
at  that  very  moment  taking  on  a  deeper  shade 
of  crimson. 

"Everything  you  do  seems  to  interest  him," 
continued  the  farmer,  disregarding  Mrs.  Dri- 
ver's manifest  distress;  "he  was  asking  Lizzie 
about  your  calling  on  Monday;  how  long  you 
stayed,  and  where  you  sat;  and  after  she'd 
told  him,  I'm  blest  if  he  didn't  go  and  sit  in  the 
same  chair !" 

This  romantic  setting  to  a  perfectly  casual 
action  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Bodfish  affected  the 
widow  visibly,  but  its  effect  on  the  ex-constable 
nearly  upset  the  bread-pan. 


130    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"But  here,"  continued  Mr.  Negget,  with  an- 
other glance  at  the  larder,  "he  might  go  on  like 
that  for  years.  He's  a  wunnerful  shy  man — 
big,  and  gentle,  and  shy.  He  wanted  Lizzie  to 
ask  you  to  tea  yesterday." 

"Now,  Mr.  Negget,"  said  the  blushing  wid- 
ow. "Do  be  quiet." 

"Fact,"  replied  the  farmer;  "solemn  fact, 
I  assure  you.  And  he  asked  her  whether  you 
were  fond  of  jewellery." 

"I  met  him  twice  in  the  road  near  here  yes- 
terday," said  Mrs.  Clowes,  suddenly.  "Per- 
haps he  was  waiting  for  you  to  come  out." 

"I  dare  say,"  replied  the  farmer.  "I 
shouldn't  wonder  but  what  he's  hanging  about 
somewhere  near  now,  unable  to  tear  himself 
away." 

Mr.  Bodfish  wrung  his  hands,  and  his 
thoughts  reverted  instinctively  to  instances  in 
his  memory  in  which  charges  of  murder  had 
been  altered  by  the  direction  of  a  sensible  judge 
to  manslaughter.  He  held  his  breath  for  the 
next  words. 

Mr.  Negget  drank  a  little  more  ale  and 
looked  at  Mrs.  Driver. 


MRS.    DRIVER    FELL    BACK    BEFORE   THE 
EMERGING    FORM    OF    MR.    BODFISH. 


Cupboard  Love         131 

"I  wonder  whether  you've  got  a  morsel  of 
bread  and  cheese?"  he  said,  slowly.  "I've 
come  over  that  hungry " 

The  widow  and  Mr.  Bodfish  rose  simultane- 
ously. It  required  not  the  brain  of  a  trained 
detective  to  know  that  the  cheese  was  in  the 
larder.  The  unconscious  Mrs.  Driver  opened 
the  door,  and  then  with  a  wild  scream  fell  back 
before  the  emerging  form  of  Mr.  Bodfish  into 
the  arms  of  Mrs.  Clowes.  The  glass  of  Mr. 
Negget  smashed  on  the  floor,  and  the  farmer 
himself,  with  every  appearance  of  astonish- 
ment, stared  at  the  apparition  open-mouthed. 

"Mr. — Bodfish!"  he  said  at  length,  slowly. 

Mr.  Bodfish,  incapable  of  speech,  glared  at 
him  ferociously. 

"Leave  him  alone,"  said  Mrs.  Clowes,  who 
was  ministering  to  her  friend.  "Can't  you  see 
the  man's  upset  at  frightening  her?  She's 
coming  round,  Mr.  Bodfish ;  don't  be  alarmed." 

"Very  good,"  said  the  farmer,  who  found 
his  injured  relative's  gaze  somewhat  trying. 
"I'll  go,  and  leave  him  ;to  explain  to  Mrs. 
Driver  why  he  was  hidden  in  her  larder.  It 
don't  seem  a  proper  thing  to  me." 


132     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Why,  you  silly  man/'  said  Mrs.  Clowes, 
gleefully,  as  she  paused  at  the  door,  "that  don't 
want  any  explanation.  Now,  Mr.  Bodfish, 
we're  giving  you  your  chance.  Mind  you 
make  the  most  of  it,  and  don't  be  too  shy." 

She  walked  excitedly  up  the  road  with  the 
farmer,  and  bidding  him  good-bye  at  the  cor- 
ner, went  off  hastily  to  spread  the  news.  Mr. 
Negget  walked  home  soberly,  and  hardly  stay- 
ing long  enough  to  listen  to  his  wife's  account 
of  the  finding  of  the  brooch  between  the  chest 
of  drawers  and  the  wall,  went  off  to  spend  the 
evening  with  a  friend,  and  ended  by  making  a 
night  of  it. 


r 


In    the    Library 


IN  THE  LIBRARY 

THE  fire  had  burnt  low  in  the  library,  for 
the  night  was  wet  and  warm.  It  was  now  lit- 
tle more  than  a  grey  shell,  and  looked  desolate. 
Trayton  Burleigh,  still  hot,  rose  from  his  arm- 
chair, and  turning  out  one  of  the  gas-jets,  took 
a  cigar  from  a  box  on  a  side-table  and  resumed 
his  seat  again. 

The  apartment,  which  was  on  the  third  floor 
at  the  back  of  the  house,  was  a  combination  of 
library,  study,  and  smoke-room,  and  was  the 
daily  despair  of  the  old  housekeeper  who,  with 
the  assistance  of  one  servant,  managed  the 
house.  It  was  a  bachelor  establishment,  and 
had  been  left  to  Trayton  Burleigh  and  James 
Fletcher  by  a  distant  connection  of  both  men 
some  ten  years  before. 

Trayton  Burleigh  sat  back  in  his  chair 
watching  the  smoke  of  his  cigar  through  half- 


136    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

closed  eyes.  Occasionally  he  opened  them  a 
little  wider  and  glanced  round  the  comfortable, 
well-furnished  room,  or  stared  with  a  cold 
gleam  of  hatred  at  Fletcher  as  he  sat  sucking 
stolidly  at  his  brier  pipe.  It  was  a  comfortable 
room  and  a  valuable  house,  half  of  which  be- 
longed to  Trayton  Burleigh;  and  yet  he  was  to 
leave  it  in  the  morning  and  become  a  rogue  and 
a  wanderer  over  the  face  of  the  earth.  James 
Fletcher  had  said  so.  James  Fletcher,  with 
the  pipe  still  between  his  teeth  and  speaking 
from  one  corner  of  his  mouth  only,  had  pro- 
nounced his  sentence. 

"It  hasn't  occurred  to  you,  I  suppose,"  said 
Burleigh,  speaking  suddenly,  "that  I  might  re- 
fuse your  terms." 

"No,"  said  Fletcher,  simply. 

Burleigh  took  a  great  mouthful  of  smoke  and 
let  it  roll  slowly  out. 

"I  am  to  go  out  and  leave  you  in  posses- 
sion ?"  he  continued.  "You  will  stay  here  sole 
proprietor  of  the  house;  you  will  stay  at  the 
office  sole  owner  and  representative  of  the 
firm?  You  are  a  good  hand  at  a  deal,  James 
Fletcher." 


In  the  Library          137 

"I  am  an  honest  man,"  said  Fletcher,  "and 
to  raise  sufficient  money  to  make  your  defalca- 
tions good  will  not  by  any  means  leave  me  the 
gainer,  as  you  very  well  know/* 

"There  is  no  necessity  to  borrow,"  began 
Burleigh,  eagerly.  "We  can  pay  the  interest 
easily,  and  in  course  of  time  make  the  principal 
good  without  a  soul  being  the  wiser." 

"That  you  suggested  before,"  said  Fletcher, 
"and  my  answer  is  the  same.  I  will  be  no 
man's  confederate  in  dishonesty;  I  will  raise 
every  penny  at  all  costs,  and  save  the  name  of 
the  firm — and  yours  with  it — but  I  will  never 
have  you  darken  the  office  again,  or  sit  in  this 
house  after  to-night." 

"You  won't,"  cried  Burleigh,  starting  up  in 
a  frenzy  of  rage. 

"7  won't,"  said  Fletcher.  "You  can  choose 
the  alternative:  disgrace  and  penal  servitude. 
Don't  stand  over  me;  you  won't  frighten  me, 
I  can  assure  you.  Sit  down." 

"You  have  arranged  so  many  things  in  your 
kindness,"  said  Burleigh,  slowly,  resuming  his 
seat  again,  "have  you  arranged  how  I  am  to 
live?" 


138    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"You  have  two  strong  hands,  and  health," 
replied  Fletcher.  "I  will  give  you  the  two 
hundred  pounds  I  mentioned,  and  after  that 
you  must  look  out  for  yourself.  You  can  take 
it  now." 

He  took  a  leather  case  from  his  breast 
pocket,  and  drew  out  a  roll  of  notes.  Burleigh, 
watching  him  calmly,  stretched  out  his  hand 
and  took  them  from  the  table.  Then  he  gave 
way  to  a  sudden  access  of  rage,  and  crumpling 
them  in  his  hand,  threw  them  into  a  corner  of 
the  room.  Fletcher  smoked  on. 

"Mrs.  Marl  is  out  ?  "  said  Burleigh,  sud- 
denly. 

Fletcher  nodded. 

"She  will  be  away  the  night,"  he  said,  slow- 
ly; "and  Jane  too;  they  have  gone  together 
somewhere,  but  they  will  be  back  at  half-past 
eight  in  the  morning." 

"You  are  going  to  let  me  have  one  more 
breakfast  in  the  old  place,  then,"  said  Burleigh. 
"Half-past  eight,  half-past " 

He  rose  from  his  chair  again.  This  time 
Fletcher  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth  and 
watched  him  closely.  Burleigh  stooped,  and 


In  the  Library  139 

picking  up  the  notes,  placed  them  in  his  pocket. 

"If  I  am  to  be  turned  adrift,  it  shall  not  be 
to  leave  you  here,"  he  said,  in  a  thick  voice. 

He  crossed  over  and  shut  the  door;  as  he 
turned  back  Fletcher  rose  from  his  chair  and 
stood  confronting  him.  Burleigh  put  his  hand 
to  the  wall,  and  drawing  a  small  Japanese 
sword  from  its  sheath  of  carved  ivory,  stepped 
slowly  toward  him. 

"I  give  you  one  chance,  Fletcher,"  he  said, 
grimly.  "You  are  a  man  of  your  word.  Hush 
this  up  and  let  things  be  as  they  were  before, 
and  you  are  safe." 

"Put  that  down,"  said  Fletcher,  sharply. 

"By  ,  I  mean  what  I  say!"  cried  the 

other. 

"I  mean  what  I  said !"  answered  Fletcher. 

He  looked  round  at  the  last  moment  for  a 
weapon,  then  he  turned  suddenly  at  a  sharp 
sudden  pain,  and  saw  Burleigh's  clenched  fist 
nearly  touching  his  breast-bone.  The  hand 
came  away  from  his  breast  again,  and  some- 
thing with  it.  It  went  a  long  way  off.  Tray- 
ton  Burleigh  suddenly  went  to  a  great  distance 
and  the  room  darkened.  It  got  quite  dark,  and 


140    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

Fletcher,  with  an  attempt  to  raise  his  hands,  let 
them  fall  to  his  side  instead,  and  fell  in  a  heap 
to  the  floor. 

He  was  so  still  that  Burleigh  could  hardly 
realize  that  it  was  all  over,  and  stood  stupidly 
waiting  for  him  to  rise  again.  Then  he  took 
out  his  handkerchief  as  though  to  wipe  the 
sword,  and  thinking  better  of  it,  put  it  back 
into  his  pocket  again,  and  threw  the  weapon  on 
to  the  floor. 

The  body  of  Fletcher  lay  where  it  had  fallen, 
the  white  face  turned  up  to  the  gas.  In  life  he 
had  been  a  commonplace-looking  man,  not  to 
say  vulgar;  now 

Burleigh,  with  a  feeling  of  nausea,  drew 
back  -toward  the  door,  until  the  body  was  hid- 
den by  the  table,  and  relieved  from  the  sight, 
he  could  think  more  clearly.  He  looked  down 
carefully  and  examined  his  clothes  and  his 
boots.  Then  he  crossed  the  room  again,  and 
with  his  face  averted,  turned  out  the  gas. 
Something  seemed  to  stir  in  the  darkness,  and 
with  a  faint  cry  he  blundered  toward  the  door 
before  he  had  realized  that  it  was  the  clock.  It 
struck  twelve. 


BURLEIGH,    WITH    A    FEELING   OF   NAUSEA, 
DREW    HACK    TOWARD    THE    DOOR. 


In  the  Library          141 

He  stood  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  trying  to 
recover  himself ;  trying  to  think.  The  gas  on 
the  landing  below,  the  stairs  and  the  furniture, 
all  looked  so  prosaic  and  familiar  that  he  could 
not  realize  what  had  occurred.  He  walked 
slowly  down  and  turned  the  light  out.  The 
darkness  of  the  upper  part  of  the  house  was 
now  almost  appalling,  and  in  a  sudden  panic 
he  ran  down  stairs  into  the  lighted  hall,  and 
snatching  a  hat  from  the  stand,  went  to  the 
door  and  walked  down  to  the  gate. 

Except  for  one  window  the  neighbouring 
houses  were  in  darkness,  and  the  lamps  shone 
up  a  silent  street.  There  was  a  little  rain  in 
the  air,  and  the  muddy  road  was  full  of  peb- 
bles. He  stood  at  the  gate  trying  to  screw  up 
his  courage  to  enter  the  house  again.  Then  he 
noticed  a  figure  coming  slowly  up  the  road  and 
keeping  close  to  the  palings. 

The  full  realization  of  what  he  had  done 
broke  in  upon  him  when  he  found  himself  turn- 
ing to  fly  from  the  approach  of  the  constable. 
The  wet  cape  glistening  in  the  lamplight,  the 
slow,  heavy  step,  made  him  tremble.  Suppose 
the  thing  upstairs  was  not  quite  dead  and 


142     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

should  cry  out  ?  Suppose  the  constable  should 
think  it  strange  for  him  to  be  standing  there 
and  follow  him  in?  He  assumed  a  careless  at- 
titude, which  did  not  feel  careless,  and  as  the 
man  passed  bade  him  good-night,  and  made  a 
remark  as  to  the  weather. 

Ere  the  sound  of  the  other's  footsteps  had 
gone  quite  out  of  hearing,  he  turned  and  en- 
tered the  house  again  before  the  sense  of  com- 
panionship should  have  quite  departed.  The 
first  flight  of  stairs  was  lighted  by  the  gas  in 
the  hall,  and  he  went  up  slowly.  Then  he 
struck  a  match  and  went  up  steadily,  past  the 
library  door,  and  with  firm  fingers  turned  on 
the  gas  in  his  bedroom  and  lit  it.  He  opened 
the  window  a  little  way,  and  sitting  down  on 
his  bed,  tried  to  think. 

He  had  got  eight  hours.  Eight  hours  and 
two  hundred  pounds  in  small  notes.  He 
opened  his  safe  and  took  out  all  the  loose  cash 
it  contained,  and  walking  about  the  room,  gath- 
ered up  and  placed  in  his  pockets  such  articles 
of  jewellery  as  he  possessed. 

The  first  horror  had  now  to  some  extent 
passed,  and  was  succeeded  by  the  fear  of  death. 


In  the  Library          143 

With  this  fear  on  him  he  sat  down  again  and 
tried  to  think  out  the  first  moves  in  that  game 
of  skill  of  which  his  life  was  the  stake.  He 

had  often  read  of people  of  hasty  temper, 

evading  the  police  for  a  time,  and  eventually 
falling  into  their  hands  for  lack  of  the  most 
elementary  common  sense.  He  had  heard  it 
said  that  they  always  made  some  stupid  blun- 
der, left  behind  them  some  damning  clue.  He 
took  his  revolver  from  a  drawer  and  saw  that 
it  was  loaded.  If  the  worst  came  to  the  worst, 
he  would  die  quickly. 

Eight  hours'  start;  two  hundred  odd 
pounds.  He  would  take  lodgings  at  first  in 
some  populous  district,  and  let  the  hair  on  his 
face  grow.  When  the  hue-and-cry  had  ceased, 
he  would  go  abroad  and  start  life  again.  He 
would  go  out  of  a  night  and  post  letters  to  him- 
self, or  better  still,  postcards,  which  his  land- 
lady would  read.  Postcards  from  cheery 
friends,  from  a  sister,  from  a  brother.  Dur- 
ing the  day  he  would  stay  in  and  write,  as  be- 
came a  man  who  described  himself  as  a  jour- 
nalist. 

Or  suppose  he  went  to  the  sea?   Who  would 


144    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

look  for  him  in  flannels,  bathing  and  boating 
with  ordinary  happy  mortals?  He  sat  and 
pondered.  One  might  mean  life,  and  the  other 
death.  Which? 

His  face  burned  as  he  thought  of  the  respon- 
sibility of  the  choice.  So  many  people  went  to 
the  sea  at  that  time  of  year  that  he  would  sure- 
ly pass  unnoticed.  But  at  the  sea  one  might 
meet  acquaintances.  He  got  up  and  nervously 
paced  the  room  again.  It  was  not  so  simple, 
now  that  it  meant  so  much,  as  he  had  thought. 

The  sharp  little  clock  on  the  mantel-piece 
rang  out  "one,"  followed  immediately  by  the 
deeper  note  of  that  in  the  library.  He  thought 
of  the  clock,  it  seemed  the  only  live  thing  in 
that  room,  and  shuddered.  He  wondered 
whether  the  thing  lying  by  the  far  side  of  the 
table  heard  it.  He  wondered 

He  started  and  held  his  breath  with  fear. 
Somewhere  down  stairs  a  board  creaked  loudly, 
then  another.  He  went  to  the  door,  and  open- 
ing it  a  little  way,  but  without  looking  out,  lis- 
tened. The  house  was  so  still  that  he  could 
hear  the  ticking  of  the  old  clock  in  the  kitchen 
below.  He  opened  the  door  a  little  wider  and 


In  the  Library          145 

peeped  out.  As  he  did  so  there  was  a  sudden 
sharp  outcry  on  the  stairs,  and  he  drew  back 
into  the  room  and  stood  trembling  before  he 
had  quite  realized  that  the  noise  had  been  made 
by  the  cat.  The  cry  was  unmistakable;  but 
what  had  disturbed  it? 

There  was  silence  again,  and  he  drew  near 
the  door  once  more.  He  became  certain  that 
something  was  moving  stealthily  on  the  stairs. 
He  heard  the  boards  creak  again,  and  once  the 
rails  of  the  balustrade  rattled.  The  silence  and 
suspense  were  frightful.  Suppose  that  the 
something  which  had  been  Fletcher  waited  for 
him  in  the  darkness  outside? 

He  fought  his  fears  down,  and  opening  the 
door,  determined  to  see  what  was  beyond. 
The  light  from  his  room  streamed  out  on  to  the 
landing,  and  he  peered  about  fearfully.  Was 
it  fancy,  or  did  the  door  of  Fletcher's  room  op- 
posite close  as  he  looked?  Was  it  fancy,  or 
did  the  handle  of  the  door  really  turn  ? 

In  perfect  silence,  and  watching  the  door  as 
he  moved,  to  see  that  nothing  came  out  and 
followed  him,  he  proceeded  slowly  down  the 
dark  stairs.  Then  his  jaw  fell,  and  he  turned 


146     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

sick  and  faint  again.  The  library  door,  which 
he  distinctly  remembered  closing,  and  which, 
moreover,  he  had  seen  was  closed  when  he 
went  up  stairs  to  his  room,  now  stood  open 
some  four  or  five  inches.  He  fancied  that  there 
was  a  rustling  inside,  but  his  brain  refused  to 
be  certain.  Then  plainly  and  unmistakably  he 
heard  a  chair  pushed  against  the  wall. 

He  crept  to  the  door,  hoping  to  pass  it  before 
the  thing  inside  became  aware  of  his  presence. 
Something  crept  stealthily  about  the  room. 
.With  a  sudden  impulse  he  caught  the  handle  of 
the  door,  and,  closing  it  violently,  turned  the 
key  in  the  lock,  and  ran  madly  down  the  stairs. 

A  fearful  cry  sounded  from  the  room,  and  a 
heavy  hand  beat  upon  the  panels  of  the  door. 
The  house  rang  with  the  blows,  but  above  them 
sounded  the  loud  hoarse  cries  of  human  fear. 
Burleigh,  half-way  down  to  the  hall,  stopped 
with  his  hand  on  the  balustrade  and  listened. 
The  beating  ceased,  and  a  man's  voice  cried  out 
loudly  for  God's  sake  to  let  him  out. 

At  once  Burleigh  saw  what  had  happened 
and  what  it  might  mean  for  him.  He  had  left 
the  hall  door  open  after  his  visit  to  the  front, 


In  the  Library          147 

and  some  wandering  bird  of  the  night  had  en- 
tered the  house.  No  need  for  him  to  go  now. 
No  need  to  hide  either  from  the  hangman's 
rope  or  the  felon's  cell.  The  fool  above  had 
saved  him.  He  turned  and  ran  up  stairs  again 
just  as  the  prisoner  in  his  furious  efforts  to 
escape  wrenched  the  handle  from  the  door. 

"Who's  there?"  he  cried,  loudly. 

"Let  me  out!"  cried  a  frantic  voice.  "For 
God's  sake,  open  the  door !  There's  something 
here." 

"Stay  where  you  are!"  shouted  Burleigh, 
sternly.  "Stay  where  you  are!  If  you  come 
out,  I'll  shoot  you  like  a  dog!" 

The  only  response  was  a  smashing  blow  on 
the  lock  of  the  door.  Burleigh  raised  his  pis- 
tol, and  aiming  at  the  height  of  a  man's  chest, 
fired  through  the  panel. 

The  report  and  the  crashing  of  the  wood 
made  one  noise,  succeeded  by  an  unearthly  still- 
ness, then  the  noise  of  a  window  hastily 
opened.  Burleigh  fled  hastily  down  the  stairs, 
and  flinging  wide  the  hall  door,  shouted  loudly, 
for  assistance. 

It  happened  that  a  sergeant  and  the  con- 


148     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

stable  on  the  beat  had  just  met  in  the  road. 
They  came  toward  the  house  at  a  run.  Bur- 
leigh, with  incoherent  explanations,  ran  up 
stairs  before  them,  and  halted  outside  the  li- 
brary door.  The  prisoner  was  still  inside,  still 
trying  to  demolish  the  lock  of  the  sturdy  oaken 
door.  Burleigh  tried  to  turn  the  key,  but  the 
lock  was  too  damaged  to  admit  of  its  moving. 
The  sergeant  drew  back,  and,  shoulder  fore- 
most, hurled  himself  at  the  door  and  burst  it 
open. 

He  stumbled  into  the  room,  followed  by  the 
constable,  and  two  shafts  of  light  from  the 
lanterns  at  their  belts  danced  round  the  room. 
fA  man  lurking  behind  the  door  made  a  dash 
'for  it,  and  the  next  instant  the  three  men  were 
locked  together. 

Burleigh,  standing  in  the  doorway,  looked 
on  coldly,  reserving  himself  for  the  scene  which 
was  to  follow.  Except  for  the  stumbling  of 
the  men  and  the  sharp  catch  of  the  prisoner's 
breath,  there  was  no  noise.  A  helmet  fell  off 
and  bounced  and  rolled  along  the  floor.  The 
men  fell ;  there  was  a  sobbing  snarl  and  a  sharp 
click.  A  tall  figure  rose  from  the  floor;  the 


In  the  Library          149 

other,  on  his  knees,  still  held  the  man  down. 
The  standing  figure  felt  in  his  pocket,  and, 
striking  a  match,  lit  the  gas. 

The  light  fell  on  the  flushed  face  and  fair 
beard  of  the  sergeant.  He  was  bare-headed, 
and  his  hair  dishevelled.  Burleigh  entered  the 
room  and  gazed  eagerly  at  the  half-insensible 
man  on  the  floor — a  short,  thick-set  fellow  with 
a  white,  dirty  face  and  a  black  moustache.  His 
lip  was  cut  and  bled  down  his  neck.  Burleigh 
glanced  furtively  at  the  table.  The  cloth  had 
come  off  in  the  struggle,  and  was  now  in  the 
place  where  he  had  left  Fletcher. 

"Hot  work,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant,  with  a 
smile.  "It's  fortunate  we  were  handy." 

The  prisoner  raised  a  heavy  head  and  looked 
up  with  unmistakable  terror  in  his  eyes. 

"All  right,  sir,"  he  said,  trembling,  as  the 
constable  increased  the  pressure  of  his  knee. 
"I  'ain't  been  in  the  house  ten  minutes  alto- 
gether. By ,  I've  not." 

The  sergeant  regarded  him  curiously. 

"It  don't  signify,"  he  said,  slowly;  "ten 
minutes  or  ten  seconds  won't  make  any  dif- 
ference," 


150     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

The  man  shook  and  began  to  whimper. 

"It  was  'ere  when  I  come,"  he  said,  eagerly; 
"take  that  down,  sir.  I've  only  just  come,  and 
it  was  'ere  when  I  come.  I  tried  to  get  away 
then,  but  I  was  locked  in." 

"What  was?"  demanded  the  sergeant. 

"That,"  he  said,  desperately. 

The  sergeant,  following  the  direction  of  the 
terror-stricken  black  eyes,  stooped  by  the  table. 
Then,  with  a  sharp  exclamation,  he  dragged 
away  the  cloth.  Burleigh,  with  a  sharp  cry  of 
horror,  reeled  back  against  the  wall. 

"All  right,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant,  catching 
him ;  "all  right.  Turn  your  head  away." 

He  pushed  him  into  a  chair,  and  crossing  the 
room,  poured  out  a  glass  of  whiskey  and 
brought  it  to  him.  The  glass  rattled  against 
his  teeth,  but  he  drank  it  greedily,  and  then 
groaned  faintly.  The  sergeant  waited  patient- 
ly. There  was  no  hurry. 

"Who  is  it,  sir?"  he  asked  at  length. 

"My  friend — Fletcher,"  said  Burleigh,  with 
an  effort.  "We  lived  together."  He  turned 
to  the  prisoner. 

"You  damned  villain!" 


In  the  Library          151 

"He  was  dead  when  I  come  in  the  room,  gen- 
tlemen/' said  the  prisoner,  strenuously.  "He 
was  on  the  floor  dead,  and  when  I  see  'im,  I 
tried  to  get  out.  S'  'elp  me  he  was.  You 
heard  me  call  out,  sir.  I  shouldn't  ha'  called 
out  if  I'd  killed  him." 

"All  right,"  said  the  sergeant,  gruffly; 
"you'd  better  hold  your  tongue,  you  know." 

"You  keep  quiet,"  urged  the  constable. 

The  sergeant  knelt  down  and  raised  the  dead 
man's  head. 

"I  'ad  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  repeated  the 
man  on  the  floor.  "I  'ad  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing.  I've  only 
been  in  the  place  ten  minutes;  put  that  down, 
sir." 

The  sergeant  groped  with  his  left  hand,  and 
picking  up  the  Japanese  sword,  held  it  at  him. 

"I've  never  seen  it  before,"  said  the  prisoner, 
struggling. 

"It  used  to  hang  on  the  wall,"  said  Bur- 
leigh.  "He  must  have  snatched  it  down.  It 
was  on  the  wall  when  I  left  Fletcher  a  little 
while  ago." 

"How  long?"  inquired  the  sergeant. 


152     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Perhaps  an  hour,  perhaps  half  an  hour," 
was  the  reply.  "I  went  to  my  bedroom." 

The  man  on  the  floor  twisted  his  head  and 
regarded  him  narrowly. 

"You  done  it!"  he  cried,  fiercely.  "You 
done  it,  and  you  want  me  to  swing  for  it." 

"That  '11  do,"  said  the  indignant  constable. 

The  sergeant  let  his  burden  gently  to  the 
floor  again. 

"You  hold  your  tongue,  you  devil !"  he  said, 
menacingly. 

He  crossed  to  the  table  and  poured  a  little 
spirit  into  a  glass  and  took  it  in  his  hand. 
Then  he  put  it  down  again  and  crossed  to  Bur- 
leigh. 

"Feeling  better,  sir?"  he  asked. 

The  other  nodded  faintly. 

"You  won't  want  this  thing  any  more,"  said 
the  sergeant. 

He  pointed  to  the  pistol  which  the  other  still 
held,  and  taking  it  from  him  gently,  put  it  into 
his  pocket. 

"You've  hurt  your  wrist,  sir,"  he  said,  anxi- 
ously. 

Burleigh  raised  one  hand  sharply,  and  then 
the  other. 


In  the  Library          153 

"This  one,  I  think,"  said  the  sergeant.  "I 
saw  it  just  now." 

He  took  the  other's  wrists  in  his  hand,  and 
suddenly  holding  them  in  the  grip  of  a  vice, 
whipped  out  something  from  his  pocket — 
something  hard  and  cold,  which  snapped  sud- 
denly on  Burleigh's  wrists,  and  held  them  fast. 

"That's  right,"  said  the  sergeant;  "keep 
quiet." 

The  constable  turned  round  in  amaze ;  Bur- 
leigh  sprang  toward  him  furiously. 

"Take  these  things  off!"  he  choked.  "Have 
you  gone  mad?  Take  them  off!" 

"All  in  good  time,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"Take  them  off!"  cried  Burleigh  again. 

For  answer  the  sergeant  took  him  in  a  pow- 
erful grip,  and  staring  steadily  at  his  white  face 
and  gleaming  eyes,  forced  him  to  the  other  end 
of  the  room  and  pushed  him  into  a  chair. 

"Collins,"  he  said,  sharply. 

"Sir?"  said  the  astonished  subordinate. 

"Run  to  the  doctor  at  the  corner  hard  as  you 
can  run!"  said  the  other.  "This  man  is  not 
dead!" 

As  the  man  left  the  room  the  sergeant  took 


154    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

up  the  glass  of  spirits  he  had  poured  out,  and 
kneeling  down  by  Fletcher  again,  raised  his 
head  and  tried  to  pour  a  little  down  his  throat. 
Burleigh,  sitting  in  his  corner,  watched  like 
one  in  a  trance.  He  saw  the  constable  re- 
turn with  the  breathless  surgeon,  saw  the  three 
men  bending  over  Fletcher,  and  then  saw  the 
eyes  of  the  dying  man  open  and  the  lips  of  the 
dying  man  move.  He  was  conscious  that  the 
sergeant  made  some  notes  in  a  pocket-book, 
and  that  all  three  men  eyed  him  closely.  The 
sergeant  stepped  toward  him  and  placed  his 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  obedient  to  the  touch, 
he  arose  and  went  with  him  out  into  the  night. 


i  i 

Captain   Rogers 


CAPTAIN    ROGERS 

A  MAN  came  slowly  over  the  old  stone 
bridge,  and  averting  his  gaze  from  the  dark 
river  with  its  silent  craft,  looked  with  some 
satisfaction  toward  the  feeble  lights  of  the 
small  town  on  the  other  side.  He  walked  with 
the  painful,  forced  step  of  one  who  has  already 
trudged  far.  His  worsted  hose,  where  they 
were  not  darned,  were  in  holes,  and  his  coat 
and  kneebreeches  were  rusty  with  much  wear, 
but  he  straightened  himself  as  he  reached  the 
end  of  the  bridge  and  stepped  out  bravely  to 
the  taverns  which  stood  in  a  row  facing  the 
quay. 

He  passed  the  "Queen  Anne" — a  mere  beer- 
shop — without  pausing,  and  after  a  glance 
apiece  at  the  "Royal  George"  and  the  "Trusty 
Anchor,"  kept  on  his  way  to  where  the  "Golden 
Key"  hung  out  a  gilded  emblem.  It  was  the 


158    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

best  house  in  Riverstone,  and  patronized  by  the 
gentry,  but  he  adjusted  his  faded  coat,  and 
with  a  swaggering  air  entered  and  walked 
boldly  into  the  coffee-room. 

The  room  was  empty,  but  a  bright  fire  af- 
forded a  pleasant  change  to  the  chill  October 
air  outside.  He  drew  up  a  chair,  and  placing 
his  feet  on  the  fender,  exposed  his  tattered  soles 
to  the  blaze,  as  a  waiter  who  had  just  seen  him 
enter  the  room  came  and  stood  aggressively 
inside  the  door. 

"Brandy  and  water,"  said  the  stranger; 
"hot." 

"The  coffee-room  is  for  gentlemen  staying 
in  the  house/''  said  the  waiter. 

The  stranger  took  his  feet  from  the  fender, 
and  rising  slowly,  walked  toward  him.  He 
was  a  short  man  and  thin,  but  there  was  some- 
thing so  menacing  in  his  attitude,  and  some- 
thing so  fearsome  in  his  stony  brown  eyes,  that 
the  other,  despite  his  disgust  for  ill-dressed 
people,  moved  back  uneasily. 

"Brandy  and  water,  hot,"  repeated  the  stran- 
ger; "and  plenty  of  it.  D'ye  hear?" 

The  man  turned  slowly  to  depart.    , 


Captain  Rogers         159 

"Stop!"  said  the  other, imperiously.  "What's 
the  name  of  the  landlord  here?" 

"Mullet,"  said  the  fellow,  sulkily. 

"Send  him  to  me,"  said  the  other,  resuming 
his  seat ;  "and  hark  you,  my  friend,  more  civil- 
ity, or  'twill  be  the  worse  for  you." 

He  stirred  the  log  on  the  fire  with  his  foot 
until  a  shower  of  sparks  whirled  up  the  chim- 
ney. The  door  opened,  and  the  landlord,  with 
the  waiter  behind  him,  entered  the  room,  but 
he  still  gazed  placidly  at  the  glowing  embers. 

"What  do  you  want?"  demanded  the  land- 
lord, in  a  deep  voice. 

The  stranger  turned  a  little  weazened  yellow 
face  and  grinned  at  him  familiarly. 

"Send  that  fat  rascal  of  yours  away,"  he 
said,  slowly. 

The  landlord  started  at  his  voice  and  eyed 
him  closely ;  then  he  signed  to  the  man  to  with- 
draw, and  closing  the  door  behind  him,  stood 
silently  watching  his  visitor. 

"You  didn't  expect  to  see  me,  Rogers,"  said 
the  latter. 

"My  name's  Mullet,"  said  the  other,  sternly. 
"What  do  you  want?" 


160    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Oh,  Mullet?"  said  the  other,  in  surprise. 
"I'm  afraid  I've  made  a  mistake,  then.  I 
thought  you  were  my  old  shipmate,  Captain 
Rogers.  It's  a  foolish  mistake  of  mine,  as  I've 
no  doubt  Rogers  was  hanged  years  ago.  You 
never  had  a  brother  named  Rogers,  did  you?" 

"I  say  again,  what  do  you  want?"  demanded 
the  other,  advancing  upon  him. 

"Since  you're  so  good,"  said  the  other.  "I 
want  new  clothes,  food,  and  lodging  of  the 
best,  and  my  pockets  filled  with  money." 

"You  had  better  go  and  look  for  all  those 
things,  then,"  said  Mullet.  "You  won't  find 
them  here." 

"Ay!"  said  the  other,  rising.  "Well,  well! 
There  was  a  hundred  guineas  on  the  head  of 
my  old  shipmate  Rogers  some  fifteen  years  ago. 
I'll  see  whether  it  has  been  earned  yet." 

"If  I  gave  you  a  hundred  guineas,"  said  the 
innkeeper,  repressing  his  passion  by  a  mighty 
effort,  "you  would  not  be  satisfied." 

"Reads  like  a  book,"  said  the  stranger,  in 
tones  of  pretended  delight.  "What  a  man 
it  is!" 

He  fell  back  as  he  spoke,  and  thrusting  his 


Captain  Rogers         161 

hand  into  his  pocket,  drew  forth  a  long  pistol 
as  the  innkeeper,  a  man  of  huge  frame,  edged 
toward  him. 

"Keep  your  distance,"  he  said,  in  a  sharp, 
quick  voice. 

The  innkeeper,  in  no  wise  disturbed  at  the 
pistol,  turned  away  calmly,  and  ringing  the 
bell,  ordered  some  spirits.  Then  taking  a 
chair,  he  motioned  to  the  other  to  do  the  same, 
and  they  sat  in  silence  until  the  staring  waiter 
had  left  the  room  again.  The  stranger  raised 
his  glass. 

"My  old  friend  Captain  Rogers,"  he  said, 
solemnly,  "and  may  he  never  get  his  deserts!1' 

"From  what  jail  have  you  come?"  inquired 
Mullet,  sternly. 

"  Ton  my  soul,"  said  the  other,  "I  have  been 
in  so  many — looking  for  Captain  Rogers — that 
I  almost  forget  the  last,  but  I  have  just 
tramped  from  London,  two  hundred  and 
eighty  odd  miles,  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
your  damned  ugly  figure-head  again ;  and  now 
I've  found  it,  I'm  going  to  stay.  Give  me  some 
money." 
.  The  innkeeper,  without  a  word,  drew  a  little 


1 62     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

gold  and  silver  from  his  pocket,  and  placing  it 
on  the  table,  pushed  it  toward  him. 

"Enough  to  go  on  with,"  said  the  other, 
pocketing  it ;  "in  future  it  is  halves.  D'ye  hear 
me?  Halves!  And  I'll  stay  here  and  see  I 
get  it." 

He  sat  back  in  his  chair,  and  meeting  the 
other's  hatred  with  a  gaze  as  steady  as  his  own, 
replaced  his  pistol. 

"A  nice  snug  harbor  after  our  many  voy- 
ages," he  continued.  "Shipmates  we  were, 
shipmates  we'll  be;  while  Nick  Gunn  is  alive 
you  shall  never  want  for  company.  Lord !  Do 
you  remember  the  Dutch  brig,  and  the  fat 
frightened  mate?" 

"I  have  forgotten  it,"  said  the  other,  still 
eyeing  him  steadfastly.  "I  have  forgotten 
many  things.  For  fifteen  years  I  have  lived  a 
decent,  honest  life.  Pray  God  for  your  own 
sinful  soul,  that  the  devil  in  me  does  not  wake 
again." 

"Fifteen  years  is  a  long  nap,"  said  Gunn, 
carelessly;  "what  a  godsend  it  '11  be  for  you 
to  have  me  by  you  to  remind  you  of  old 
times !  Why,  you're  looking  smug,  man ;  the 


GUNN    PLACED    A    HAND,    WHICH    LACKED    TWO 
FINGERS,   ON    HIS    BREAST   AND    BOWED    AGAIN 


Captain  Rogers         163 

honest  innkeeper  to  the  life !  Gad !  who's  the 
girl?" 

He  rose  and  made  a  clumsy  bow  as  a  girl  of 
eighteen,  after  a  moment's  hesitation  at  the 
door,  crossed  over  to  the  innkeeper. 

"I'm  busy,  my  dear,"  said  the  latter,  some- 
what sternly. 

"Our  business,"  said  Gunn,  with  another 
bow,  "is  finished.  Is  this  your  daughter, 
Rog—  Mullet?" 

"My  stepdaughter,"  was  the  reply. 

Gunn  placed  a  hand,  which  lacked  two  fin- 
gers, on  his  breast,  and  bowed  again. 

"One  of  your  father's  oldest  friends,"  he 
said  smoothly;  "  and  fallen  on  evil  days;  I'm 
sure  your  gentle  heart  will  be  pleased  to  hear 
that  your  good  father  has  requested  me — for  a 
time — to  make  his  house  my  home." 

"Any  friend  of  my  father's  is  welcome  to 
me,  sir,"  said  the  girl,  coldly.  She  looked 
from  the  innkeeper  to  his  odd-looking  guest, 
and  conscious  of  something  strained  in  the  air, 
gave  him  a  little  bow  and  quitted  the  room. 

"You  insist  upon  staying,  then?"  said  Mul- 
let, after  a  pause. 


164    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"More  than  ever,"  replied  Gunn,  with  a  leer 
toward  the  door.  "Why,  you  don't  think  I'm 
afraid,  Captain?  You  should  know  me  better 
than  that." 

"Life  is  sweet,"  said  the  other. 

"Ay,"  assented  Gunn,  "so  sweet  that  you 
will  share  things  with  me  to  keep  it." 

"No,"  said  the  other,  with  great  calm.  "I 
am  man  enough  to  have  a  better  reason." 

"No  psalm  singing,"  said  Gunn,  coarsely. 
"And  look  cheerful,  you  old  buccaneer.  Look 
as  a  man  should  look  who  has  just  met  an  old 
friend  never  to  lose  him  again." 

He  eyed  his  man  expectantly  and  put  his 
hand  to  his  pocket  again,  but  the  innkeeper's 
face  was  troubled,  and  he  gazed  stolidly  at  the 
fire. 

"See  what  fifteen  years'  honest,  decent  life 
does  for  us,"  grinned  the  intruder. 

The  other  made  no  reply,  but  rising  slowly, 
walked  to  the  door  without  a  word. 

"Landlord,"  cried  Gunn,  bringing  his 
maimed  hand  sharply  down  on  the  table. 

The  innkeeper  turned  and  regarded  him. 

"Send  me  in  some  supper,"  said  Gunn;  "the 


Captain  Rogers         165 

best  you  have,  and  plenty  of  it,  and  have  a  room 
prepared.  The  best." 

The  door  closed  silently,  and  was  opened 
a  little  later  by  the  dubious  George  coming  in 
to  set  a  bountiful  repast.  Gunn,  after  cursing 
him  for  his  slowness  and  awkwardness,  drew 
his  chair  to  the  table  and  made  the  meal  of  one 
seldom  able  to  satisfy  his  hunger.  He  finished 
at  last,  and  after  sitting  for  some  time  smoking, 
with  his  legs  sprawled  on  the  fender,  rang  for 
a  candle  and  demanded  to  be  shown  to  his 
room. 

His  proceedings  when  he  entered  it  were  but 
a  poor  compliment  to  his  host.  Not  until  he 
had  poked  and  pried  into  every  corner  did  he 
close  the  door.  Then,  not  content  with  lock- 
ing it,  he  tilted  a  chair  beneath  the  handle,  and 
placing  his  pistol  beneath  his  pillow,  fell  fast 
asleep. 

Despite  his  fatigue  he  was  early  astir  next 
morning.  Breakfast  was  laid  for  him  in  the 
coffee-room,  and  his  brow  darkened.  He 
walked  into  the  hall,  and  after  trying  various 
doors  entered  a  small  sitting-room,  where  his 
host  and  daughter  sat  at  breakfast,  and  with  an 


1 66   The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

easy  assurance  drew  a  chair  to  the  table.  The 
innkeeper  helped  him  without  a  word,  but  the 
girl's  hand  shook  under  his  gaze  as  she  passed 
him  some  coffee. 

"As  soft  a  bed  as  ever  I  slept  in,"  he  re- 
marked. 

"I  hope  that  you  slept  well,"  said  the  girl, 
civilly. 

"Like  a  child,"  said  Gunn,  gravely;  "an  easy 
conscience.  Eh,  Mullet  ?" 

The  innkeeper  nodded  and  went  on  eating. 
The  other,  after  another  remark  or  two,  fol- 
lowed his  example,  glancing  occasionally  with 
warm  approval  at  the  beauty  of  the  girl  who 
sat  at  the  head  of  the  table. 

"A  sweet  girl,"  he  remarked,  as  she  with- 
drew at  the  end  of  the  meal;  "and  no  mother,  I 
presume?" 

"No  mother,"  repeated  the  other. 

Gunn  sighed  and  shook  his  head. 

"A  sad  case,  truly,"  he  murmured.  "No 
mother  and  such  a  guardian.  Poor  soul,  if  she 
but  knew!  Well,  we  must  find  her  a  hus- 
band." 

He  looked  down  as  he  spoke,  and  catching 


Captain  Rogers         167 

sight  of  his  rusty  clothes  and  broken  shoes, 
clapped  his  hand  to  his  pocket;  and  with  a 
glance  at  his  host,  sallied  out  to  renew  his 
wardrobe.  The  innkeeper,  with  an  inscruta- 
ble face,  watched  him  down  the  quay,  then  with 
bent  head  he  returned  to  the  house  and  fell  to 
work  on  his  accounts. 

In  this  work  Gunn,  returning  an  hour  later, 
clad  from  head  to  foot  in  new  apparel,  offered 
to  assist  him.  Mullett  hesitated,  but  made  no 
demur;  neither  did  he  join  in  the  ecstasies 
which  his  new  partner  displayed  at  the  sight 
of  the  profits.  Gunn  put  some  more  gold  into 
his  new  pockets,  and  throwing  himself  back  in 
a  chair,  called  loudly  to  George  to  bring  him 
some  drink. 

In  less  than  a  month  the  intruder  was  the 
virtual  master  of  the  "Golden  Key."  Resist- 
ance on  the  part  of  the  legitimate  owner  became 
more  and  more  feeble,  the  slightest  objection 
on  his  part  drawing  from  the  truculent  Gunn 
dark  allusions  to  his  past  and  threats  against 
his  future,  which  for  the  sake  of  his  daughter 
he  could  not  ignore.  His  health  began  to  fail, 
and  Joan  watched  with  perplexed  terror  the 


1 68     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

growth  of  a  situation  which  was  in  a  fair  way 
of  becoming  unbearable. 

The  arrogance  of  Gunn  knew  no  bounds. 
The  maids  learned  to  tremble  at  his  polite  grin, 
or  his  worse  freedom,  and  the  men  shrank  ap- 
palled from  his  profane  wrath.  George,  after 
ten  years'  service,  was  brutally  dismissed,  and 
refusing  to  accept  dismissal  from  his  hands, 
appealed  to  his  master.  The  innkeeper  con- 
firmed it,  and  with  lack-lustre  eyes  fenced 
feebly  when  his  daughter,  regardless  of  Gunn's 
presence,  indignantly  appealed  to  him. 

"The  man  was  rude  to  my  friend,  my  dear," 
he  said  dispiritedly 

"If  he  was  rude,  it  was  because  Mr.  Gunn 
deserved  it,"  said  Joan,  hotly. 

Gunn  laughed  uproariously. 

"Gad,  my  dear,  I  like  you!"  he  cried,  slap- 
ping his  leg.  "You're  a  girl  of  spirit.  Now 
I  will  make  you  a  fair  offer.  If  you  ask  for 
George  to  stay,  stay  he  shall,  as  a  favour  to 
your  sweet  self." 

The  girl  trembled. 

"Who  is  master  here?"  she  demanded,  turn- 
ing a  full  eye  on  her  father, 


Captain  Rogers         169 

Mullet  laughed  uneasily. 

"This  is  business,"  he  said,  trying  to  speak 
lightly,  "and  women  can't  understand  it.  Gunn 
is — is  valuable  to  me,  and  George  must  go." 

"Unless  you  plead  for  him,  sweet  one?"  said 
Gunn. 

The  girl  looked  at  her  father  again,  but  he 
turned  his  head  away  and  tapped  on  the  floor 
with  his  foot.  Then  in  perplexity,  akin  to 
tears,  she  walked  from  the  room,  carefully 
drawing  her  dress  aside  as  Gunn  held  the  door 
for  her. 

"A  fine  girl,"  said  Gunn,  his  thin  lips  work- 
ing; "a  fine  spirit.  'Twill  be  pleasant  to  break 
it;  but  she  does  not  know  who  is  master  here." 

"She  is  young  yet,"  said  the  other,  hurriedly. 

"I  will  soon  age  her  if  she  looks  like  that  at 

me  again,"  said  Gunn.  "By ,  I'll  turn  out 

the  whole  crew  into  the  street,  and  her  with 
them,  an'  I  wish  it.  I'll  lie  in  my  bed  warm  o' 
nights  and  think  of  her  huddled  on  a  doorstep." 

His  voice  rose  and  his  fists  clenched,  but  he 
kept  his  distance  and  watched  the  other  warily. 
The  innkeeper's  face  was  contorted  and  his 
brow  grew  wet.  For  one  moment  something 


170    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

peeped  out  of  his  eyes ;  the  next  he  sat  down  in 
his  chair  again  and  nervously  fingered  his  chin. 

"I  have  but  to  speak/'  said  Gunn,  regard- 
ing him  with  much  satisfaction,  "and  you  will 
hang,  and  your  money  go  to  the  Crown.  What 
will  become  of  her  then,  think  you  ?" 

The  other  laughed  nervously. 

"  'Twould  be  stopping  the  golden  eggs/'  he 
ventured. 

"Don't  think  too  much  of  that,"  said  Gunn, 
in  a  hard  voice.  "I  was  never  one  to  be 
baulked,  as  you  know." 

"Come,  come.  Let  us  be  friends,"  said  Mul- 
let; "the  girl  is  young,  and  has  had  her  way." 

He  looked  almost  pleadingly  at  the  other, 
and  his  voice  trembled.  Gunn  drew  himself 
up,  and  regarding  him  with  a  satisfied  sneer, 
quitted  the  room  without  a  word. 

Affairs  at  the  "Golden  Key"  grew  steadily 
worse  and  worse.  Gunn  dominated  the  place, 
and  his  vile  personality  hung  over  it  like  a 
shadow.  Appeals  to  the  innkeeper  were  in 
vain;  his  health  was  breaking  fast,  and  he 
moodily  declined  to  interfere.  Gunn  ap- 
pointed servants  of  his  own  choosing — brazen 


Captain  Rogers         171 

maids  and  foul-mouthed  men.  The  old  pa- 
trons ceased  to  frequent  the  "Golden  Key," 
and  its  bedrooms  stood  empty.  The  maids 
scarcely  deigned  to  take  an  order  from  Joan, 
and  the  men  spoke  to  her  familiarly.  In  the 
midst  of  all  this  the  innkeeper,  who  had  com- 
plained once  or  twice  of  vertigo,  was  seized 
with  a  fit. 

Joan,  flying  to  him  for  protection  against 
the  brutal  advances  of  Gunn,  found  him  lying 
in  a  heap  behind  the  door  of  his  small  office, 
and  in  her  fear  called  loudly  for  assistance.  A 
little  knot  of  servants  collected,  and  stood  re- 
garding him  stupidly.  One  made  a  brutal 
jest.  Gunn,  pressing  through  the  throng, 
turned  the  senseless  body  over  with  his  foot, 
and  cursing  vilely,  ordered  them  to  carry  it  up- 
stairs. 

Until  the  surgeon  came,  Joan,  kneeling  by 
the  bed,  held  on  to  the  senseless  hand  as  her 
only  protection  against  the  evil  faces  of  Gunn 
and  his  proteges.  Gunn  himself  was  taken 
aback,  the  innkeeper's  death  at  that  time  by  no 
means  suiting  his  aims. 

The  surgeon  was  a  man  of  few  words  and 


172    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

fewer  attainments,  but  under  his  ministrations 
the  innkeeper,  after  a  long  interval,  rallied. 
The  half-closed  eyes  opened,  and  he  looked  in 
a  dazed  fashion  at  his  surroundings.  Gunn 
drove  the  servants  away  and  questioned  the 
man  of  medicine.  The  answers  were  vague 
and  interspersed  with  Latin.  Freedom  from 
noise  and  troubles  of  all  kinds  was  insisted 
upon  and  Joan  was  installed  as  nurse,  with  a 
promise  of  speedy  assistance. 

The  assistance  arrived  late  in  the  day  in  the 
shape  of  an  elderly  woman,  whose  Spartan 
treatment  of  her  patients  had  helped  many 
along  the  silent  road.  She  commenced  her 
reign  by  punching  the  sick  man's  pillows,  and 
having  shaken  him  into  consciousness  by  this 
means,  gave  him  a  dose  of  physic,  after  first 
tasting  it  herself  from  the  bottle. 

After  the  first  rally  the  innkeeper  began  to 
fail  slowly.  It  was  seldom  that  he  understood 
what  was  said  to  him,  and  pitiful  to  the  be- 
holder to  see  in  his  intervals  of  consciousness 
his  timid  anxiety  to  earn  the  good-will  of  the 
all-powerful  Gunn.  His  strength  declined  un- 
til assistance  was  needed  to  turn  him  in  the  bed. 


Captain  Rogers         173 

and  his  great  sinewy  hands  were  forever 
trembling  and  fidgeting  on  the  coverlet. 

Joan,  pale  with  grief  and  fear,  tended  him 
assiduously.  Her  stepfather's  strength  had 
been  a  proverb  in  the  town,  and  many  a  hasty 
citizen  had  felt  the  strength  of  his  arm.  The 
increasing  lawlessness  of  the  house  filled  her 
with  dismay,  and  the  coarse  attentions  of  Gunn 
became  more  persistent  than  ever.  She  took 
her  meals  in  the  sick-room,  and  divided  her 
time  between  that  and  her  own. 

Gunn  himself  was  in  a  dilemma.  With  Mul- 
let dead,  his  power  was  at  an  end  and  his  vis- 
ions of  wealth  dissipated.  He  resolved  to 
feather  his  nest  immediately,  and  interviewed 
the  surgeon.  The  surgeon  was  ominously 
reticent,  the  nurse  cheerfully  ghoulish. 

"Four  days  I  give  him,"  she  said,  calmly; 
"four  blessed  days,  not  but  what  he  might  slip 
away  at  any  moment." 

Gunn  let  one  day  of  the  four  pass,  and  then, 
choosing  a  time  when  Joan  was  from  the  room, 
entered  it  for  a  little  quiet  conversation.  The 
innkeeper's  eyes  were  open,  and,  what  was 
more  to  the  purpose,  intelligent. 


174    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"You're  cheating  the  hangman,  after  all," 
snarled  Gunn.  "I'm  off  to  swear  an  informa- 
tion." 

The  other,  by  a  great  effort,  turned  his  heavy 
head  and  fixed  his  wistful  eyes  on  him. 

"Mercy!"  he  whispered.  "For  her  sake — 
give  me — a  little  time!" 

"To  slip  your  cable,  I  suppose,"  quoth  Gunn. 
"Where's  your  money?  Where's  your  hoard, 
you  miser?" 

Mullet  closed  his  eyes.  He  opened  them 
again  slowly  and  strove  to  think,  while  Gunn 
watched  him  narrowly.  When  he  spoke,  his 
utterance  was  thick  and  labored. 

"Come  to-night,"  he  muttered,  slowly. 
"Give  me — time — I  will  make  your — your  for- 
tune. But  the  nurse — watches." 

"I'll  see  to  her,"  said  Gunn,  with  a  grin. 
"But  tell  me  now,  lest  you  die  first." 

"You  will — let  Joan — have  a  share?"  panted 
the  innkeeper. 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Gunn,  hastily. 

The  innkeeper  strove  to  raise  himself  in  the 
bed,  and  then  fell  back  again  exhausted  as 
Joan's  step  was  heard  on  the  stairs.  Gunn  gave 


Captain  Rogers         175 

a  savage  glance  of  warning  at  him,  and  barring 
the  progress  of  the  girl  at  the  door,  attempted 
to  salute  her.  Joan  came  in  pale  and  trem- 
bling, and  falling  on  her  knees  by  the  bedside, 
took  her  father's  hand  in  hers  and  wept  over  it. 
The  innkeeper  gave  a  faint  groan  and  a  shiver 
ran  through  his  body. 

It  was  nearly  an  hour  after  midnight  that 
Nick  Gunn,  kicking  off  his  shoes,  went  stealth- 
ily out  onto  the  landing.  A  little  light  came 
from  the  partly  open  door  of  the  sick-room, 
but  all  else  was  in  blackness.  He  moved  along 
and  peered  in. 

The  nurse  was  siting  in  a  high-backed  oak 
chair  by  the  fire.  She  had  slipped  down  in  the 
seat,  and  her  untidy  head  hung  on  her  bosom. 
A  glass  stood  on  the  small  oak  table  by  her  side, 
and  a  solitary  candle  on  the  high  mantel-piece 
diffused  a  sickly  light.  Gunn  entered  the  room, 
and  finding  that  the  sick  man  was  dozing, 
shook  him  roughly. 

The  innkeeper  opened  his  eyes  and  gazed  at 
him  blankly. 

"Wake,  you  fool,"  said  Gunn,  shaking  him 
again. 


176     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

The  other  roused  and  muttered  something 
incoherently.  Then  he  stirred  slightly. 

"The  nurse,"  he  whispered. 

"She's  safe  enow,"  said  Gunn.  "I've  seen 
to  that." 

He  crossed  the  room  lightly,  and  standing 
before  the  unconscious  woman,  inspected  her 
closely  and  raised  her  in  the  chair.  Her  head 
fell  limply  over  the  arm. 

"Dead?"  inquired  Mullet,  in  a  fearful  whis- 
per. 

"Drugged,"  said  Gunn,  shortly.  "Now 
speak  up,  and  be  lively." 

The  innkeeper's  eyes  again  travelled  in  the 
direction  of  the  nurse. 

"The  men,"  he  whispered;  "the  servants." 

"Dead  drunk  and  asleep,"  said  Gunn,  biting 
the  words.  "The  last  day  would  hardly  rouse 
them.  Now  will  you  speak,  damn  you !" 

"I  must — take  care — of  Joan,"  said  the 
father. 

Gunn  shook  his  clenched  hand  at  him. 

"My  money — is — is — "  said  the  other. 
"Promise  me  on — your  oath — Joan." 

"Ay,  ay,"  growled  Gunn;  "how  many  more 


Captain  Rogers         177 

times?  I'll  marry  her,  and  she  shall  have  what 
I  choose  to  give  her.  Speak  up,  you  fool !  It's 
not  for  you  to  make  terms.  Where  is  it  ?" 

He  bent  over,  but  Mullet,  exhausted  with 
his  efforts,  had  closed  his  eyes  again,  and  half 
turned  his  head. 

"Where  is  it,  damn  you?"  said  Gunn,  from 
between  his  teeth. 

Mullet  opened  his  eyes  again,  glanced  fear- 
fully round  the  room,  and  whispered.  Gunn, 
with  a  stifled  oath,  bent  his  ear  almost  to  his 
mouth,  and  the  next  moment  his  neck  was  in 
the  grip  of  the  strongest  man  in  Riverstone, 
and  an  arm  like  a  bar  of  iron  over  his  back 
pinned  him  down  across  the  bed. 

"You  dog!"  hissed  a  fierce  voice  in  his  ear. 
"I've  got  you — Captain  Rogers  at  your  service, 
and  now  you  may  tell  his  name  to  all  you  can. 
Shout  it,  you  spawn  of  hell.  Shout  it!" 

He  rose  in  bed,  and  with  a  sudden  movement 
flung  the  other  over  on  his  back.  Gunn's  eyes 
were  starting  from  his  head,  and  he  writhed 
convulsively. 

"I  thought  you  were  a  sharper  man,  Gunn," 
said  Rogers,  still  in  the  same  hot  whisper,  as 

N 


178     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

he  relaxed  his  grip  a  little;  "you  are  too  simple, 
you  hound!  When  you  first  threatened  me  I 
resolved  to  kill  you.  Then  you  threatened  my 
daughter.  I  wish  that  you  had  nine  lives,  that 
I  might  take  them  all.  Keep  still!" 

He  gave  a  half-glance  over  his  shoulder  at 
the  silent  figure  of  the  nurse,  and  put  his 
weight  on  the  twisting  figure  on  the  bed. 

"You  drugged  the  hag,  good  Gunn,"  he  con- 
tinued. "To-morrow  morning,  Gunn,  they 
will  find  you  in  your  room  dead,  and  if  one  of 
the  scum  you  brought  into  my  house  be 
charged  with  the  murder,  so  much  the  better. 
When  I  am  well  they  will  go.  I  am  already 
feeling  a  little  bit  stronger,  Gunn,  as  you  see, 
and  in  a  month  I  hope  to  be  about  again." 

He  averted  his  face,  and  for  a  time  gazed 
sternly  and  watchfully  at  the  door.  Then 
he  rose  slowly  to  his  feet,  and  taking  the  dead 
man  in  his  arms,  bore  him  slowly  and  carefully 
to  his  room,  and  laid  him  a  huddled  heap  on 
the  floor.  Swiftly  and  noiselessly  he  put  the 
dead  man's  shoes  on  and  turned  his  pockets  in- 
side out,  kicked  a  rug  out  of  place,  and  put  a 
guinea  on  the  floor.  Then  he  stole  cautiously 


Captain  Rogers         179 

down  stairs  and  set  a  small  door  at  the  back 
open.  A  dog  barked  frantically,  and  he  hur- 
ried back  to  his  room.  The  nurse  still  slum- 
bered by  the  fire. 

She  awoke  in  the  morning  shivering  with  the 
cold,  and  being  jealous  of  her  reputation,  re- 
kindled the  fire,  and  measuring  out  the  dose 
which  the  invalid  should  have  taken,  threw  it 
away.  On  these  unconscious  preparations 
for  an  alibi  Captain  Rogers  gazed  through 
half-closed  lids,  and  then  turning  his  grim  face 
to  the  wall,  waited  for  the  inevitable  alarm. 


A    Tiger's    Skin 


I 

^^ 


A   TIGER'S   SKIN 

THE  travelling  sign-painter  who  was  re- 
painting the  sign  of  the  "Cauliflower"  was  en- 
joying a  well-earned  respite  from  his  labours. 
On  the  old  table  under  the  shade  of  the  elms 
mammoth  sandwiches  and  a  large  slice  of 
cheese  waited  in  an  untied  handkerchief  until 
such  time  as  his  thirst  should  be  satisfied.  At 
the  other  side  of  the  table  the  oldest  man  in 
Claybury,  drawing  gently  at  a  long  clay  pipe, 
turned  a  dim  and  regretful  eye  up  at  the  old 
signboard. 

"I've  drunk  my  beer  under  it  for  pretty  near 
seventy  years,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh.  "It's  a 
pity  it  couldn't  ha'  lasted  my  time." 

The  painter,  slowly  pushing  a  wedge  of 
sandwich  into  his  mouth,  regarded  him  indul- 
gently. 

"It's  all  through  two  young  gentlemen  as 
was  passing  through  'ere  a  month  or  two  ago," 


184     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

continued  the  old  man;  "they  told  Smith,  the 
landlord,  they'd  been  looking  all  over  the  place 
for  the  'Cauliflower/  and  when  Smith  showed 
'em  the  sign  they  said  they  thought  it  was  the 
'George  the  Fourth,'  and  a  very  good  likeness, 
too." 

The  painter  laughed  and  took  another  look 
at  the  old  sign;  then,  with  the  nervousness  of 
the  true  artist,  he  took  a  look  at  his  own.  One 
or  two  shadows 

He  flung  his  legs  over  the  bench  and  took 
up  his  brushes.  In  ten  minutes  the  most  fer- 
vent loyalist  would  have  looked  in  vain  for  any 
resemblance,  and  with  a  sigh  at  the  pitfalls 
which  beset  the  artist  he  returned  to  his  inter- 
rupted meal  and  hailed  the  house  for  more 
beer. 

"There's  nobody  could  mistake  your  sign  for 
anything  but  a  cauliflower,"  said  the  old  man ; 
"it  looks  good  enough  to  eat." 

The  painter  smiled  and  pushed  his  mug 
across  the  table.  He  was  a  tender-hearted 
man,  and  once — when  painting  the  sign  of  the 
"Sir  Wilfrid  Lawson" — knew  himself  what  it 
was  to  lack  beer.  He  began  to  discourse  on 


A  Tiger's  Skin          185 

art,  and  spoke  somewhat  disparagingly  of  the 
cauliflower  as  a  subject.  With  a  shake  of  his 
head  he  spoke  of  the  possibilities  of  a  spotted 
cow  or  a  blue  lion. 

"Talking  of  lions/'  said  the  ancient,  musing- 
ly, "I  s'pose  as  you  never  'card  tell  of  the  Clay- 
bury  tiger?  It  was  afore  your  time  in  these 
parts,  I  expect." 

The  painter  admitted  his  ignorance,  and, 
finding  that  the  allusion  had  no  reference  to  an 
inn,  pulled  out  his  pipe  and  prepared  to  listen. 

"It's  a  while  ago  now,"  said  the  old  man, 
slowly,  "and  the  circus  the  tiger  belonged  to 
was  going  through  Claybury  to  get  to  Wick- 
ham,  when,  just  as  they  was  passing  Gill's 
farm,  a  steam-ingine  they  'ad  to  draw  some  o' 
the  vans  broke  down,  and  they  'ad  to  stop  while 
the  blacksmith  mended  it.  That  being  so,  they 
put  up  a  big  tent  and  'ad  the  circus  'ere. 

"I  was  one  o'  them  as  went,  and  I  must  say 
it  was  worth  the  money,  though  Henry  Walk- 
er was  disappointed  at  the  man  who  put  'is  'ead 
in  the  lion's  mouth.  He  said  that  the  man 
frightened  the  lion  first,  before  'e  did  it. 

"It  was  a  great  night  for  Claybury,  and  for 


1 86    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

about  a  week  nothing  else  was  talked  of.  All 
the  children  was  playing  at  being  lions  and 
tigers  and  such-like,  and  young  Roberts  pretty 
near  broke  'is  back  trying  to  see  if  he  could  ride 
horseback  standing  up. 

"It  was  about  two  weeks  after  the  circus  'ad 
gone  when  a  strange  thing  'appened :  the  big 
tiger  broke  loose.  Bill  Chambers  brought  the 
news  first,  'aving  read  it  in  the  newspaper  while 
'e  was  'aving  his  tea.  He  brought  out  the 
paper  and  showed  us,  and  soon  after  we  'card 
all  sorts  o'  tales  of  its  doings. 

"At  first  we  thought  the  tiger  was  a  long 
way  off,  and  we  was  rather  amused  at  it. 
Frederick  Scott  laughed  'imself  silly  a' most  up 
'ere  one  night  thinking  'ow  surprised  a  man 
would  be  if  'e  come  'ome  one  night  and  found 
the  tiger  sitting  in  his  armchair  eating  the 
baby.  It  didn't  seem  much  of  a  laughing  mat- 
ter to  me,  and  I  said  so ;  none  of  us  liked  it,  and 
even  Sam  Jones,  as  'ad  got  twins  for  the  second 
time,  said  'Shame!'  But  Frederick  Scott  was 
a  man  as  would  laugh  at  anything. 

"When  we  'card  that  the  tiger  'ad  been  seen 
within  three  miles  of  Claybury  things  began  to 


A  Tiger's  Skin          187 

look  serious,  and  P-eter  Gubbins  said  that  some- 
thing ought  to  be  done,  but  before  we  could 
think  of  anything  to  do  something  'appened. 

"We  was  sitting  up  'ere  one  evening  'aving 
a  mug  o'  beer  and  a  pipe — same  as  I  might  be 
now  if  I'd  got  any  baccy  left — and  talking 
about  it,  when  we  'eard  a  shout  and  saw  a 
ragged-looking  tramp  running  toward  us  as 
'ard  as  he  could  run.  Every  now  and  then 
he'd  look  over  'is  shoulder  and  give  a  shout, 
and  then  run  'arder  than  afore. 

"It's  the  tiger r  ses  Bill  Chambers,  and 
afore  you  could  wink  a'most  he  was  inside  the 
house,  'aving  first  upset  Smith  and  a  pot  o'  beer 
in  the  doorway. 

"Before  he  could  get  up,  Smith  'ad  to  wait 
till  we  was  all  in.  His  langwidge  was  awful 
for  a  man  as  'ad  a  license  to  lose,  and  every- 
body shouting  Tiger!'  as  they  trod  on  'im 
didn't  ease  'is  mind.  He  was  inside  a'most  as 
soon  as  the  last  man,  though,  and  in  a  flash  he 
'ad  the  door  bolted  just  as  the  tramp  flung  'im- 
self  agin  it,  all  out  of  breath  and  sobbing  'is 
hardest  to  be  let  in. 

"  'Open  the  door,'  he  ses,  banging  on  it. 


i  88     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"  'Go  away,'  ses  Smith. 

"  'It's  the  tiger,'  screams  the  tramp ;  'open 
the  door.' 

"  'You  go  away,'  ses  Smith,  'you're  attract- 
ing it  to  my  place ;  run  up  the  road  and  draw  it 
off.'  " 

"Just  at  that  moment  John  Biggs,  the  black- 
smith, come  in  from  the  taproom,  and  as  soon 
as  he  'card  wot  was  the  matter  'e  took  down 
Smith's  gun  from  behind  the  bar  and  said  he 
was  going  out  to  look  after  the  wimmen  and 
children. 

"  'Open  the  door,'  he  ses. 

"He  was  trying  to  get  out  and  the  tramp  out- 
side was  trying  to  get  in,  but  Smith  held  on 
to  that  door  like  a  Briton.  Then  John  Biggs 
lost  'is  temper,  and  he  ups  with  the  gun — 
Smith's  own  gun,  mind  you — and  fetches  'im  a 
bang  over  the  'ead  with  it.  Smith  fell  down  at 
once,  and  afore  we  could  'elp  ourselves  the 
door  was  open,  the  tramp  was  inside,  and  John 
Biggs  was  running  up  the  road,  shouting  'is 
hardest. 

"We  'ad  the  door  closed  afore  you  could 
wink  a'most,  and  then,  while  the  tramp  lay  in  a 


A  Tiger's  Skin          189 

corner  'aving  brandy,  Mrs.  Smith  got  a  bowl  of 
water  and  a  sponge  and  knelt  down  bathing  'er 
husband's  'ead  with  it. 

"  'Did  you  see  the  tiger  ?'  ses  Bill  Chambers. 

"'See  it?'  ses  the  tramp,  with  a  shiver. 
'Oh,  Lord!' 

"He  made  signs  for  more  brandy,  and  Hen- 
ery  Walker,  wot  was  acting  as  landlord,  with- 
out being  asked,  gave  it  to  'im. 

"  'It  chased  me  for  over  a  mile,'  ses  the 
tramp;  'my 'eart's  breaking.' 

"He  gave  a  groan  and  fainted  right  off.  A 
terrible  faint  it  was,  too,  and  for  some  time  we 
thought  'ed  never  come  round  agin.  First 
they  poured  brandy  down  'is  throat,  then  gin, 
and  then  beer,  and  still  'e  didn't  come  round, 
but  lay  quiet  with  'is  eyes  closed  and  a  horrible 
smile  on  'is  face. 

"He  come  round  at  last,  and  with  nothing 
stronger  than  water,  which  Mrs.  Smith  kept 
pouring  into  'is  mouth.  First  thing  we  noticed 
was  that  the  smile  went,  then  'is  eyes  opened, 
and  suddenly  'e  sat  up  with  a  shiver  and  gave 
such  a  dreadful  scream  that  we  thought  at  first 
the  tiger  was  on  top  of  us. 


i go    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Then  'e  told  us  'ow  he  was  sitting  washing 
'is  shirt  in  a  ditch,  when  he  'eard  a  snuffling 
noise  and  saw  the  'ead  of  a  big  tiger  sticking 
through  the  hedge  the  other  side.  He  left  'is 
shirt  and  ran,  and  'e  said  that,  fortunately,  the 
tiger  stopped  to  tear  the  shirt  to  pieces,  else  'is 
last  hour  would  'ave  arrived. 

"When  'e  'ad  finished  Smith  went  upstairs 
and  looked  out  of  the  bedroom  winders,  but  'e 
couldn't  see  any  signs  of  the  tiger,  and  'e  said 
no  doubt  it  'ad  gone  down  to  the  village  to  see 
wot  it  could  pick  up,  or  p'raps  it  'ad  eaten  John 
Biggs. 

"However  that  might  be,  nobody  cared  to  go 
outside  to  see,  and  after  it  got  dark  we  liked 
going  'ome  less  than  ever. 

"Up  to  ten  o'clock  we  did  very  well,  and  then 
Smith  began  to  talk  about  'is  license.  He  said 
it  was  all  rubbish  being  afraid  to  go  'ome,  and 
that,  at  any  rate,  the  tiger  couldn't  eat  more 
than  one  of  us,  and  while  'e  was  doing  that 
there  was  the  chance  for  the  others  to  get  'ome 
safe.  Two  or  three  of  'em  took  a  dislike  to 
Smith  that  night  and  told  'im  so. 

"The  end  of  it  was  we  all  slept  in  the  tap- 


A  Tiger's  Skin          191 

room  that  night.  It  seemed  strange  at  first, 
but  anything  was  better  than  going  'ome  in 
the  dark,  and  we  all  slept  till  about  four  next 
morning,  when  we  woke  up  and  found  the 
tramp  'ad  gone  and  left  the  front  door  standing 
wide  open. 

"We  took  a  careful  look-out,  and  by-and-by 
first  one  started  off  and  then  another  to  see 
whether  their  wives  and  children  'ad  been  eaten 
or  not.  Not  a  soul  'ad  been  touched,  but  the 
wimmen  and  children  was  that  scared  there 
was  no  doing  anything  with  'em.  None  o'  the 
children  would  go  to  school,  and  they  sat  at 
'ome  all  day  with  the  front  winder  blocked  up 
with  a  mattress  to  keep  the  tiger  out. 

"Nobody  liked  going  to  work,  but  it  'ad  to 
be  done  and  as  Farmer  Gill  said  that  tigers 
went  to  sleep  all  day  and  only  came  out  toward 
evening  we  was  a  bit  comforted.  Not  a  soul 
went  up  to  the  'Cauliflower'  that  evening  for 
fear  of  coming  'ome  in  the  dark,  but  as  nothing 
'appened  that  night  we  began  to  'ope  as  the 
tiger  'ad  travelled  further  on. 

"Bob  Pretty  laughed  at  the  whole  thing  and 
said  'e  didn't  believe  there  was  a  tiger ;  but  no- 


1 92    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

body  minded  wot  'e  said,  Bob  Pretty  being,  as 
I've  often  told  people,  the  black  sheep  o'  Clay- 
bury,  wot  with  poaching  and,  wot  was  worse, 
'is  artfulness. 

"But  the  very  next  morning  something  'ap- 
pened  that  made  Bob  Pretty  look  silly  and  wish 
'e  'adn't  talked  quite  so  fast ;  for  at  five  o'clock 
Frederick  Scott,  going  down  to  feed  'is  hins, 
found  as  the  tiger  'ad  been  there  afore  'im  and 
Jad  eaten  no  less  than  seven  of  'em.  The  side 
of  the  hin-'ouse  was  all  broke  in,  there  was  a 
few  feathers  lying  on  the  ground,  and  two  little 
chicks  smashed  and  dead  beside  'em. 

"The  way  Frederick  Scott  went  on  about  it 
you'd  'ardly  believe.  He  said  that  Govinment 
'ud  'ave  to  make  it  up  to  'im,  and  instead  o' 
going  to  work  'e  put  the  two  little  chicks  and 
the  feathers  into  a  pudding  basin  and  walked  to 
Cudford,  four  miles  off,  where  they  'ad  a 
policeman. 

"He  saw  the  policeman,  William  White  by 
name,  standing  at  the  back  door  of  the  'Fox  and 
Hounds'  public  house,  throwing  a  'andful  o' 
corn  to  the  landlord's  fowls,  and  the  first  thing 
Mr.  White  ses  was,  'it's  off  my  beat,'  he  ses. 


A  Tiger's  Skin          193 

"  'But  you  might  do  it  in  your  spare  time, 
Mr.  White/  ses  Frederick  Scott.  It's  very 
likely  that  the  tiger '11  come  back  to  my  hin- 
'ouse  for  the  rest  of  'em,  and  he'd  be  very  sur- 
prised if  'e  popped  'is  'ead  in  and  see  you  there 
waiting  for  'im.' 

"He'd  'ave  reason  to  be,'  ses  Policeman 
White,  staring  at  'im. 

"  Think  of  the  praise  you'd  get,'  said  Fred- 
erick Scott,  coaxing  like. 

"  'Look  'ere,'  ses  Policeman  White,  'if  you 
don't  take  yourself  and  that  pudding  basin  off 
pretty  quick,  you'll  come  along  o'  me,  d'ye  see? 
You've  been  drinking  and  you're  in  a  excited 
state.' 

"He  gave  Frederick  Scott  a  push  and  fol- 
lered  'im  along  the  road,  and  every  time  Fred- 
erick stopped  to  ask  'im  wot  'e  was  doing  of  'e 
gave  'im  another  push  to  show  'im. 

"Frederick  Scott  told  us  all  about  it  that 
evening,  and  some  of  the  bravest  of  us  went  up 
to  the  'Cauliflower'  to  talk  over  wot  was  to  be 
done,  though  we  took  care  to  get  'ome  while  it 
was  quite  light.  That  night  Peter  Gubbins's 
two  pigs  went.  They  were  two  o'  the  likeliest 


1 94     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

pigs  I  ever  seed,  and  all  Peter  Gubbins  could 
do  was  to  sit  up  in  bed  shivering  and  listening 
to  their  squeals  as  the  tiger  dragged  'em  off. 
Pretty  near  all  Claybury  was  round  that  sty 
next  morning  looking  at  the  broken  fence. 
Some  of  them  looked  for  the  tiger's  footmarks, 
but  it  was  dry  weather  and  they  couldn't  see 
any.  Nobody  knew  whose  turn  it  would  be 
next,  and  the  most  sensible  man  there,  Sam 
Jones,  went  straight  off  'ome  and  killed  his  pig 
afore  'e  went  to  work. 

"Nobody  knew  what  to  do;  Farmer  Hall 
said  as  it  was  a  soldier's  job,  and  'e  drove  over 
to  Wickham  to  tell  the  police  so,  but  nothing 
came  of  it,  and  that  night  at  ten  minutes  to 
twelve  Bill  Chambers's  pig  went.  It  was  one 
o'  the  biggest  pigs  ever  raised  in  Claybury,  but 
the  tiger  got  it  off  as  easy  as  possible.  Bill  'ad 
the  bravery  to  look  out  of  the  winder  when  'e 
'eard  the  pig  squeal,  but  there  was  such  a  awful 
snarling  noise  that  'e  daresn't  move  'and  or 
foot. 

"Dicky  Weed's  idea  was  for  people  with 
pigs  and  such-like  to  keep  'em  in  the  house  of  a 
night,  but  Peter  Gubbins  and  Bill  Chambers 


A  Tiger's  Skin          195 

both  pointed  out  that  the  tiger  could  break  a 
back  door  with  one  blow  of  'is  paw,  and  that  if 
'e  got  inside  he  might  take  something  else  in- 
stead o'  pig.  And  they  said  that  it  was  no 
worse  for  other  people  to  lose  pigs  than  wot  it 
was  for  them. 

"The  odd  thing  about  it  was  that  all  this  time 
nobody  'ad  ever  seen  the  tiger  except  the  tramp 
and  people  sent  their  children  back  to  school 
agin  and  felt  safe  going  about  in  the  daytime 
till  little  Charlie  Gubbins  came  running  'ome 
crying  and  saying  that  'e'd  seen  it.  Next 
morning  a  lot  more  children  see  it  and  was 
afraid  to  go  to  school,  and  people  began  to  won- 
der wot  'ud  happen  when  all  the  pigs  and  poul- 
try was  eaten. 

"Then  Henery  Walker  see  it.  We  was  sit- 
ting inside  'ere  with  scythes,  and  pitchforks, 
and  such-like  things  handy,  when  we  see  'im 
come  in. without  'is  hat.  His  eyes  were  staring 
and  'is  hair  was  all  rumpkd.  He  called  for  a 
pot  o'  ale  and  drank  it  nearly  off,  and  then  'e 
sat  gasping  and  'olding  the  mug  between  'is 
legs  and  shaking  'is  'ead  at  the  floor  till  every- 
body 'ad  left  off  talking  to  look  at  'im. 


196    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 


'Wot's  the  matter,  Henery?'  ses  one  of 


'em. 


"  'Don't  ask  me/  ses  Henery  Walker,  with  a 
shiver. 

"  'You  don't  mean  to  say  as  'ow  you've  seen 
the  tiger?"  ses  Bill  Chambers. 

"Henery  Walker  didn't  answer  'im.  He  got 
up  and  walked  back'ards  and  for'ards,  still  with 
that  frightened  look  in  'is  eyes,  and  once  or 
twice  'e  give  such  a  terrible  start  that  'e  fright- 
ened us  'arf  out  of  our  wits.  Then  Bill 
Chambers  took  and  forced  'im  into  a  chair  and 
give  'im  two  o'  gin  and  patted  'im  on  the  back, 
and  at  last  Henery  Walker  got  'is  senses  back 
agin  and  told  us  'ow  the  tiger  'ad  chased  'im  all 
round  and  round  the  trees  in  Plashett's  Wood 
until  'e  managed  to  climb  up  a  tree  and  escape 
it.  He  said  the  tiger  'ad  kept  'im  there  for 
over  an  hour,  and  then  suddenly  turned  round 
and  bolted  off  up  the  road  to  Wickham. 

"It  was  a  merciful  escape,  and  everybody 
said  so  except  Sam  Jones,  and  'e  asked  so  many 
questions  that  at  last  Henery  Walker  asked  'im 
outright  if  'e  disbelieved  'is  word. 

"  'It's  all  right,  Sam,'  ses  Bob  Pretty,  as  'ad 


A  Tiger's  Skin          197 

come  in  just  after  Henery  Walker.  'I  see  'im 
with  the  tiger  after  'im.' 

"  'Wot  ?'  ses  Henery,  staring  at  him. 

"  'I  see  it  all,  Henery/  ses  Bob  Pretty,  'and  I 
see  your  pluck.  It  was  all  you  could  do  to 
make  up  your  mind  to  run  from  it.  I  believe 
if  you'd  'ad  a  fork  in  your  'and  you'd  'ave 
made  a  fight  for  it." 

"Everybody  said  'Bravo!';  but  Henery 
Walker  didn't  seem  to  like  it  at  all.  He  sat 
still,  looking  at  Bob  Pretty,  and  at  last  'e  ses, 
'Where  was  you?'  'e  ses. 

"  'Up  another  tree,  Henery,  where  you 
couldn't  see  me/  ses  Bob  Pretty,  smiling  at  'im. 

Henery  Walker,  wot  was  drinking  some 
beer,  choked  a  bit,  and  then  'e  put  the  mug 
down  and  went  straight  off  'ome  without  say- 
ing a  word  to  anybody.  I  knew  'e  didn't  like 
Bob  Pretty,  but  I  couldn't  see  why  'e  should  be 
cross  about  'is  speaking  up  for  'im  as  'e  had 
done,  but  Bob  said  as  it  was  'is  modesty,  and  'e 
thought  more  of  'im  for  it. 

After  that  things  got  worse  than  ever;  the 
wimmen  and  children  stayed  indoors  and  kept 
the  doors  shut,  and  the  men  never  knew  when 


198     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

they  went  out  to  work  whether  they'd  come 
'ome  agin.  They  used  to  kiss  their  children 
afore  they  went  out  of  a  morning,  and  their 
wives  too,  some  of  'em ;  even  men  who'd  been 
married  for  years  did.  And  several  more  of 
'em  see  the  tiger  while  they  was  at  work,  and 
came  running  'ome  to  tell  about  it. 

"The  tiger  'ad  been  making  free  with  Clay- 
bury  pigs  and  such-like  for  pretty  near  a  week, 
and  nothing  'ad  been  done  to  try  and  catch  it, 
and  wot  made  Claybury  men  madder  than  any- 
thing else  was  folks  at  Wickham  saying  it  was 
all  a  mistake,  and  the  tiger  'adn't  escaped  at  all. 
Even  parson,  who'd  been  away  for  a  holiday, 
said  so,  and  Henery  Walker  told  'is  wife  that  if 
she  ever  set  foot  inside  the  church  agin  'ed 
ask  'is  old  mother  to  come  and  live  with  'em. 

"It  was  all  very  well  for  parson  to  talk,  but 
the  very  night  he  come  back  Henery  Walker's 
pig  went,  and  at  the  same  time  George  Kettle 
lost  five  or  six  ducks. 

"He  was  a  quiet  man,  was  George,  but  when 
'is  temper  was  up  'e  didn't  care  for  anything. 
Afore  he  came  to  Claybury  'e  'ad  been  in  the 
Militia,  and  that  evening  at  the  'Cauliflower' 


A  Tiger's  Skin          199 

'e  turned  up  with  a  gun  over  'is  shoulder  and 
made  a  speech,  and  asked  who  was  game  to  go 
with  'im  and  hunt  the  tiger.  Bill  Chambers, 
who  was  still  grieving  after  'is  pig,  said  'e 
would,  then  another  man  offered,  until  at  last 
there  was  seventeen  of  'em.  Some  of  'em  'ad 
scythes  and  some  pitchforks,  and  one  or  two  of 
'em  guns,  and  it  was  one  o'  the  finest  sights  I 
ever  seed  when  George  Kettle  stood  'em  in 
rows  of  four  and  marched  'em  off. 

"They  went  straight  up  the  road,  then  across 
Farmer  Gill's  fields  to  get  to  Plashett's  wood, 
where  they  thought  the  tiger  'ud  most  likely  be, 
and  the  nearer  they  got  to  the  wood  the  slower 
they  walked.  The  sun  'ad  just  gone  down  and 
the  wood  looked  very  quiet  and  dark,  but  John 
Biggs,  the  blacksmith,  and  George  Kettle 
walked  in  first  and  the  others  follered,  keeping 
so  close  together  that  Sam  Jones  'ad  a  few 
words  over  his  shoulder  with  Bill  Chambers 
about  the  way  'e  was  carrying  'is  pitchfork. 

"Every  now  and  then  somebody  'ud  say, 
'IVot's  that!'  and  they'd  all  stop  and  crowd  to- 
gether and  think  the  time  'ad  come,  but  it 
'adn't,  and  then  they'd  go  on  agin,  trembling, 


2oo    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

until  they'd  walked  all  round  the  wood  without 
seeing  anything  but  one  or  two  rabbits.  John 
Biggs  and  George  Kettle  wanted  for  to  stay 
there  till  it  was  dark,  but  the  others  wouldn't 
'ear  of  it  for  fear  of  frightening  their  wives, 
and  just  as  it  was  getting  dark  they  all  come 
tramp,  tramp,  back  to  the  'Cauliflower'  agin. 

"Smith  stood  'em  'arf  a  pint  apiece,  and  they 
was  all  outside  'ere  fancying  theirselves  a  bit 
for  wot  they'd  done  when  we  see  old  man  Pars- 
ley coming  along  on  two  sticks  as  fast  as  'e 
could  come. 

"  'Are  you  brave  lads  a-looking  for  the 
tiger?'  he  asks. 

"  'Yes/  ses  John  Biggs. 

"  'Then  'urry  up,  for  the  sake  of  mercy,'  ses 
old  Mr.  Parsley,  putting  'is  'and  on  the  table 
and  going  off  into  a  fit  of  coughing;  'it's  just 
gone  into  Bob  Pretty's  cottage.  I  was  passing 
and  saw  it.' 

T 

"George  Kettle  snatches  up  'is  gun  and 
shouts  out  to  'is  men  to  come  along.  Some  of 
'em  was  for  'anging  back  at  first,  some  because 
they  didn't  like  the  tiger  and  some  because  they 
didn't  like  Bob  Pretty,  but  John  Biggs  drove 


A  Tiger's  Skin          201 

'em  in  front  of  'im  like  a  flock  o'  sheep  and  then 
they  gave  a  cheer  and  ran  after  George  Kettle, 
full  pelt  up  the  road. 

"A  few  wimmen  and  children  was  at  their 
doors  as  they  passed,  but  they  took  fright  and 
went  indoors  screaming.  There  was  a  lamp  in 
Bob  Pretty's  front  room,  but  the  door  was 
closed  and  the  'ouse  was  silent  as  the  grave. 

"George  Kettle  and  the  men  with  the  guns 
went  first,  then  came  the  pitchforks,  and  last 
of  all  the  scythes.  Just  as  George  Kettle  put 
'is  'and  on  the  door  he  'eard  something  moving 
inside,  and  the  next  moment  the  door  opened 
and  there  stood  Bob  Pretty. 

"  'What  the  dickens !'  'e  ses,  starting  back  as 
'e  see  the  guns  and  pitchforks  pointing  at  'im. 

"  "Ave  you  killed  it,  Bob?'  ses  George  Ket- 
tle. 

"/Killed  wot?'  ses  Bob  Pretty.  'Be  care- 
ful o'  them  guns.  Take  your  fingers  off  the 
triggers.' 

"  The  tiger's  in  your  'ouse,  Bob,'  ses  George 
Kettle,  in  a  whisper.  "Ave  you  on'y  just 
come  in?' 

"  'Look  'ere,'  ses  Bob  Pretty.     1  don't  want 


2O2    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

any  o'  your  games.  You  go  and  play  'em 
somewhere  else." 

"  'It  ain't  a  game,'  ses  John  Biggs ;  'the 
tiger's  in  your  'ouse  and  we're  going  to  kill 
it.  Now,  then,  lads.' 

"They  all  went  in  in  a  'eap,  pushing  Bob 
Pretty  in  front  of  'em,  till  the  room  was  full. 
Only  one  man  with  a  scythe  got  in,  and  they 
wouldn't  'ave  let  'im  in  if  they'd  known.  It 
a'most  made  'em  forget  the  tiger  for  the  time. 

"George  Kettle  opened  the  door  wot  led  into 
the  kitchen,  and  then  'e  sprang  back  with  such  a 
shout  that  the  man  with  the  scythe  tried  to  es- 
cape, taking  Henery  Walker  along  with  'im. 
George  Kettle  tried  to  speak,  but  couldn't.  All 
'e  could  do  was  to  point  with  'is  finger  at  Bob 
Pretty's  kitchen — and  Bob  Pretty's  kitchen  was 
for  all  the  world  like  a  pork-butcher's  shop. 
There  was  joints  o'  pork  'anging  from  the 
ceiling,  two  brine  tubs  as  full  as  they  could 
be,  and  quite  a  string  of  fowls  and  ducks  all 
ready  for  market. 

"  'Wot  d'ye  mean  by  coming  into  my  'ouse  ?' 
ses  Bob  Pretty,  blustering.  'If  you  don't  clear 
out  pretty  quick,  I'll  make  you.' 


A  Tiger's  Skin          203 

"Nobody  answered  'im;  they  was  all  ex- 
amining 'ands  o'  pork  and  fowls  and  such-like. 

"  There's  the  tiger/  ses  Henery  Walker, 
pointing  at  Bob  Pretty;  'that's  wot  old  man 
Parsley  meant.' 

"  'Somebody  go  and  fetch  Policeman  White,' 
ses  a  voice. 

"  'I  wish  they  would,'  ses  Bob  Pretty.  "I'll 
'av-e  the  law  on  you  all  for  breaking  into  my 
'ouse  like  this,  see  if  I  don't/ 

"  '  Where'd  you  get  all  this  pork  from  ?'  ses 
the  blacksmith. 

"  'And  them  ducks  and  hins  ?'  ses  George 
Kettle. 

"  That's  my  bisness,'  ses  Bob  Pretty,  staring 
'em  full  in  the  face.  'I  just  'ad  a  excellent  op- 
pertunity  offered  me  of  going  into  the  pork  and 
poultry  line  and  I  took  it.  Now,  all  them  as 
doesn't  want  to  buy  any  pork  or  fowls  go  out 
o'  my  house/' 

"  'You're  a  thief,  Bob  Pretty!'  says  Henery 
Walker.  'You  stole  it  all.' 

"  Take  care  wot  you're  saying,  Henery/  ses 
Bob  Pretty,  'else  I'll  make  you  prove  your 
words.' 


204    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"  'You  stole  my  pig,'  ses  Herbert  Smith. 

"  'Oh,  'ave  I  ?'  ses  Bob,  reaching  down  a 
'and  o'  pork.  Is  that  your  pig?'  he  ses. 

"  'It's  just  about  the  size  o'  my  pore  pig,'  ses 
Herbert  Smith. 

"  'Very  usual  size,  I  call  it,'  ses  Bob  Pretty; 
'and  them  ducks  and  bins  very  usual-looking 
bins  and  ducks,  I  call  'em,  except  that  they 
don't  grow  'em  so  fat  in  these  parts.  It's  a 
fine  thing  when  a  man's  doing  a  honest  bisness 
to  'ave  these  charges  brought  agin  'im.  Dis- 
'eartening,  I  call  it.  I  don't  mind  telling  you 
that  the  tiger  got  in  at  my  back  winder  the 
other  night  and  took  arf  a  pound  o'  sausage, 
but  you  don't  'ear  me  complaining  and  going 
about  calling  other  people  thieves.' 

"  Tiger  be  hanged,'  ses  Henery  Walker, 
who  was  almost  certain  that  a  loin  o'  pork  on 
the  table  was  off  'is  pig;  'you're  the  only  tiger 
in  these  parts.' 

"Why,  Henery,'  ses  Bob  Pretty,  'wot  are  you 
a-thinkin'  of  ?  Where's  your  memory  ?  Why, 
it's  on'y  two  or  three  days  ago  you  see  it  and 
'ad  to  get  up  a  tree  out  of  its  way.' 

"He  smiled  and  shook  'is  'ead  at  'im,  but 


A  Tiger's  Skin          205 

Henery  Walker  on'y  kept  opening  and  shutting 
'is  mouth,  and  at  last  'e  went  outside  without 
saying  a  word. 

"  'And  Sam  Jones  see  it  too/  ses  Bob 
Pretty;  'didn't  you,  Sam ?' 

"Sam  didn't  answer  'im. 

"  'And  Charlie  Hall  and  Jack  Minns  and  a 
lot  more/  ses  Bob ;  'besides,  I  see  it  myself.  I 
can  believe  my  own  eyes,  I  s'pose?' 

"  'We'll  have  the  law  on  you/  ses  Sam  Jones. 

'"As  you  like/  ses  Bob  Pretty;  'but  I  tell 
you  plain,  I've  got  all  the  bills  for  this  properly 
made  out,  upstairs.  And  there's  pretty  near  a 
dozen  of  you  as'll  'ave  to  go  in  the  box  and 
swear  as  you  saw  the  tiger.  Now,  can  I  sell 
any  of  you  a  bit  o'  pork  afore  you  go?  It's 
delicious  eating,  and  as  soon  as  you -taste  it 
you'll  know  it  wasn't  grown  in  Claybury.  Or 
a  pair  o'  ducks  wot  'ave  come  from  two  'un- 
dered  miles  off,  and  yet  look  as  fresh  as  if  they 
was  on'y  killed  last  night.' 

"George  Kettle,  whose  ducks  'ad  gone  the 
night  afore,  went  into  the  front  room  and 
walked  up  and  down  fighting  for  'is  breath,  but 
it  was  all  noxgood ;  nobody  ever  got  the  better 


206    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

o'  Bob  Pretty.  None  of  'em  could  swear  to 
their  property,  and  even  when  it  became  known 
a  month  later  that  Bob  Pretty  and  the  tramp 
knew  each  other,  nothing  was  done.  But  no- 
body ever  'eard  any  more  of  the  tiger  from  that 
day  to  this." 


A   Mixed   Proposal 


A  MIXED  PROPOSAL 

MAJOR  BRILL,  late  of  the  Fenshire  Volun- 
unteers,  stood  in  front  of  the  small  piece  of 
glass  in  the  hatstand,  and  with  a  firm  and 
experienced  hand  gave  his  new  silk  hat  a  slight 
tilt  over  the  right  eye.  Then  he  took  his  cane 
and  a  new  pair  of  gloves,  and  with  a  military 
but  squeaky  tread,  passed  out  into  the  road. 
It  was  a  glorious  day  in  early  autumn,  and  the 
soft  English  landscape  was  looking  its  best,  but 
despite  the  fact  that  there  was  nothing  more 
alarming  in  sight  than  a  few  cows  on  the  hill- 
side a  mile  away,  the  Major  paused  at  his  gate, 
and  his  face  took  on  an  appearance  of  the 
greatest  courage  and  resolution  before  proceed- 
ing. The  road  was  dusty  and  quiet,  except  for 
the  children  playing  at  cottage  doors,  and  so 
hot  that  the  Major,  heedless  of  the  fact  that  he 
could  not  replace  the  hat  at  exactly  the  same 

p 


210     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

angle,  stood  in  the  shade  of  a  tree  while  he 
removed  it  and  mopped  his  heated  brow. 

He  proceeded  on  his  way  more  leisurely, 
overtaking,  despite  his  lack  of  speed,  another 
man  who  was  walking  still  more  slowly  in  the 
shade  of  the  hedge. 

"Fine  day,  Halibut,"  he  said,  briskly;  "fine 
day." 

"Beautiful,"  said  the  other,  making  no  at- 
tempt to  keep  pace  with  him. 

"Country  wants  rain,  though,"  cried  the 
Major  over  his  shoulder. 

Halibut  assented,  and  walking  slowly  on, 
wondered  vaguely  what  gaudy  color  it  was  that 
had  attracted  his  eye.  It  dawned  on  him  at 
length  that  it  must  be  the  Major's  tie,  and 
he  suddenly  quickened  his  pace,  by  no  means 
reassured  as  the  man  of  war  also  quickened 
his. 

"Halloa,  Brill!"  he  cried.  "Half  a  moment." 

The  Major  stopped  and  waited  for  his 
friend;  Halibut  eyed  the  tie  uneasily — it  was 
fearfully  and  wonderfully  made — but  said 
nothing. 

".Well?"  said  the  Major,  somewhat  sharply. 


A    Mixed   Proposal 


211 


"Oh — I  was  going  to  ask  you,  Brill —  Con- 
found it !  I've  forgotten  what  I  was  going  to 
say  now.  I  daresay  I  shall  soon  think  of  it. 
You're  not  in  a  hurry?" 

"Well,  I  am,  rather,"  said  Brill.  "Fact  is— 
Is  my  hat  on  straight,  Halibut?" 

The  other  assuring  him  that  it  was,  the  Ma- 
jor paused  in  his  career,  and  gripping  the  brim 
with  both  hands,  deliberately  tilted  it  over  the 
right  eye  again. 

"You  were  saying — "  said  Halibut,  regard- 
ing this  manoeuvre  with  secret  disapproval. 

"Yes,"  murmured  the  Major,  "I  was  saying. 
Well,  I  don't  mind  telling  an  old  friend  like 
you,  Halibut,  though  it  is  a  profound  secret. 
Makes  me  rather  particular  about  my  dress  just 
now.  Women  notice  these  things.  I'm — 
sha'nt  get  much  sympathy  from  a  confirmed 
old  bachelor  like  you — but  I'm  on  my  way  to 
put  a  very  momentous  question." 

"The  devil  you  are !"  said  the  other,  blankly. 

"Sir!"  said  the  astonished  Major. 

"Not  Mrs.  Riddel?"  said  Halibut. 

"Certainly,  sir,"  said  the  Major,  stiffly. 
"Why  not?" 


212     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Only  that  I  am  going  on  the  same  errand," 
said  the  confirmed  bachelor,  with  desperate 
calmness. 

The  Major  looked  at  him,  and  for  the  first 
time  noticed  an  unusual  neatness  and  dressiness 
in  his  friend's  attire.  His  collar  was  higher 
than  usual ;  his  tie,  of  the  whitest  and  finest  silk, 
bore  a  pin  he  never  remembered  to  have  seen 
before;  and  for  the  first  time  since  he  had 
known  him,  the  Major,  with  a  strange  sinking 
at  the  heart,  saw  that  he  wore  spats. 

"This  is  extraordinary,"  he  said,  briefly. 
"Well,  good-day,  Halibut.  Can't  stop." 

"Good-day,"  said  the  other. 

The  Major  quickened  his  pace  and  shot 
ahead,  and  keeping  in  the  shade  of  the  hedge, 
ground  his  teeth  as  the  civilian  on  the  other 
side  of  the  road  slowly,  but  surely,  gained  on 
him. 

It  became  exciting.  The  Major  was  handi- 
capped by  his  upright  bearing  and  short  mili- 
tary stride;  the  other,  a  simple  child  of  the 
city,  bent  forward,  swinging  his  arms  and  tak- 
ing immense  strides.  At  a  by-lane  they 
picked  up  three  small  boys,  who,  trotting  in 


A   Mixed   Proposal      213 

their  rear,  made  it  evident  by  their  remarks  that 
they  considered  themselves  the  privileged  spec- 
tators of  a  foot-race.  The  Major  could  stand 
it  no  longer,  and  with  a  cut  of  his  cane  at  the 
foremost  boy,  softly  called  a  halt. 

"Well,"  said  Halibut,  stopping. 

The  man's  manner  was  suspicious,  not  to 
say  offensive,  and  the  other  had  much  ado  to 
speak  him  fair. 

"This  is  ridiculous,"  he  said,  trying  to  smile. 
"We  can't  walk  in  and  propose  in  a  duet.  One 
of  us  must  go  to-day  and  the  other  to-mor- 
row." 

"Certainly,"  said  Halibut;  "that'll  be  the 
best  plan." 

"So  childish,,"  said  the  Major,  with  a  care- 
less laugh,  "two  fellows  walking  in  hot  and 
tired  and  proposing  to  her." 

"Absurd,"  replied  Halibut,  and  both  men 
eyed  each  other  carefully. 

"So,  if  I'm  unsuccessful,  old  chap,"  said  the 
Major,  in  a  voice  which  he  strove  to  render 
natural  and  easy,  "I  will  come  straight  back  to 
your  place  and  let  you  know,  so  as  not  to  keep 
you  in  suspense," 


214     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"You're  very  good,"  said  Halibut,  with  some 
emotion;  "but  I  think  I'll  take  to-day,  because 
I  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  I  have  got 
one  of  my  bilious  attacks  coming  on  to-mor- 


row." 


"Pooh !  fancy,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  the  Ma- 
jor, heartily;  "I  never  saw  you  look  better  in 
my  life." 

"That's  one  of  the  chief  signs,"  replied  Hali- 
but, shaking  his  head.  "I'm  afraid  I  must  go 
to-day." 

"I  really  cannot  waive  my  right  on  account 
of  your  bilious  attack,"  said  the  Major  haugh- 
tily. 

"Your  right?"  said  Halibut,  with  spirit. 

"My  right!"  repeated  the  other.  "I  should 
have  been  there  before  you  if  you  had  not 
stopped  me  in  the  first  place." 

"But  I  started  first,"  said  Halibut. 

"Prove  it,"  exclaimed  the  Major,  warmly. 

The  other  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  shall  certainly  not  give  way,"  he  said, 
calmly.  "This  is  a  matter  in  which  my  whole 
future  is  concerned.  It  seems  very  odd,  not 
to  say  inconvenient,  that  you  should  have 


A   Mixed   Proposal      215 

chosen  the  same  day  as  myself,  Brill,  for  such 
an  errand — very  odd." 

"It's  quite  an  accident,"  asseverated  the  Ma- 
jor; "as  a  matter  of  fact,  Halibut,  I  nearly 
went  yesterday.  That  alone  gives  me,  I  think, 
some  claim  to  precedence." 

"Just  so,"  said  Halibut,  slowly;  "it  consti- 
tutes an  excellent  claim." 

The  Major  regarded  him  with  moistening 
eyes.  This  was  generous  and  noble.  His  opin- 
ion of  Halibut  rose.  "And  now  you  have  been 
so  frank  with  me,"  said  the  latter,  "it  is  only 
fair  that  you  should  know  I  started  out  with 
the  same  intention  three  days  ago  and  found 
her  out.  So  far  as  claims  go,  I  think  mine 
leads." 

"Pure  matter  of  opinion,"  said  the  disgusted 
Major;  "it  really  seems  as  though  we  want  an 
arbitrator.  Well,  we'll  have  to  make  our  call 
together,  I  suppose,  but  I'll  take  care  not  to 
give  you  any  opportunity,  Halibut,  so  don't 
cherish  any  delusions  on  that  point.  Even  you 
wouldn't  have  the  hardihood  to  propose  before 
a  third  party,  I  should  think;  but  if  you  do,  I 
give  you  fair  warning  that  I  shall  begin,  too." 


2  1 6    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"This  is  most  unseemly,"  said  Halibut. 
"We'd  better  both  go  home  and  leave  it  for 
another  day." 

"When  do  you  propose  going,  then?"  asked 
the  Major. 

"Really,  I  haven't  made  up  my  mind,"  re- 
plied the  other. 

The  Major  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"It  won't  do,  Halibut,"  he  said,  grimly;  "it 
won't  do.  I'm  too  old  a  soldier  to  be  caught 
that  way." 

There  was  a  long  pause.  The  Major  mopped 
his  brow  again.  "I've  got  it,"  he  said  at  last. 

Halibut  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"We  must  play  for  first  proposal,"  said 
the  Major,  firmly.  "We're  pretty  evenly 
matched." 

"Chess?"  gasped  the  other,  a  whole  world 
of  protest  in  his  tones. 

"Chess,"  repeated  the  Major. 

"It  is  hardly  respectful,"  demurred  Halibut. 
"What  do  you  think  the  lady  would  do  if  she 
heard  of  it?" 

"Laugh,"  replied  the  Major,  with  convic- 
tion. 


A   Mixed   Proposal      217 

"I  believe  she  would,"  said  the  other,  bright- 
ening. "I  believe  she  would." 

"You  agree,  then?" 

"With  conditions." 

"Conditions?"  repeated  the  Major. 

"One  game,"  said  Halibut,  speaking  very 
slowly  and  distinctly ;  "and  if  the  winner  is  re- 
fused, the  loser  not  to  propose  until  he  gives 
him  permission." 

"What  the  deuce  for?"  inquired  the  other, 
suspiciously. 

"Suppose  I  win,"  replied  Halibut,  with  sus- 
picious glibness,  "and  was  so  upset  that  I  had 
one  of  my  bilious  attacks  come  on,  where 
should  I  be?  Why,  I  might  have  to  break  off 
in  the  middle  and  go  home.  A  fellow  can't 
propose  when  everything  in  the  room  is  going 
round  and  round." 

"I  don't  think  you  ought  to  contemplate 
marriage,  Halibut,"  remarked  the  Major,  very 
seriously  and  gently. 

"Thanks,"  said  Halibut,  dryly. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Major,  "I  agree  to 
the  conditions.  Better  come  to  my  place  and 
we'll  decide  it  now.  If  we  look  sharp,  the 


2  1 8     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

winner  may  be  able  to  know  his  fate  to-day, 
after  all."  " 

Halibut  assenting,  they  walked  back  to- 
gether. The  feverish  joy  of  the  gambler 
showed  in  the  Major's  eye  as  they  drew  their 
chairs  up  to  the  little  antique  chess  table  and 
began  to  place  their  pieces  ready  for  the  fray. 
Then  a  thought  struck  him,  and  he  crossed 
over  to  the  sideboard. 

"If  you're  feeling  a  bit  off  colour,  Halibut," 
he  said,  kindly,  "you'd  better  have  a  little 
brandy  to  pull  yourself  together.  I  don't  wish 
to  take  a  mean  advantage." 

"You're  very  good,"  said  the  other,  as  he 
eyed  the  noble  measure  of  liquid  poured  out  by 
his  generous  adversary. 

"And  now  to  business,"  said  the  Major,  as 
he  drew  himself  a  little  soda  from  a  siphon. 

"Now  to  business,"  repeated  Halibut,  rising 
and  placing  his  glass  on  the  mantel-piece. 

The  Major  struggled  fiercely  with  his  feel- 
ings, but,  despite  himself,  a  guilty  blush  lent 
colour  to  the  other's  unfounded  suspicions. 

"Remember  the  conditions/'  said  Halibut, 
impressively. 


A   Mixed   Proposal      219 

"Here's  my  hand  on  it,"  said  the  other, 
reaching  over. 

Halibut  took  it,  and,  his  thoughts  being  at 
the  moment  far  away,  gave  it  a  tender,  respect- 
ful squeeze.  The  Major  stared  and  coughed. 
It  was  suggestive  of  practice. 

If  the  history  of  the  duel  is  ever  written,  it 
will  be  found  not  unworthy  of  being  reckoned 
with  the  most  famous  combats  of  ancient  times. 
Piece  after  piece  was  removed  from  the  board, 
and  the  Major  drank  glass  after  glass  of  soda 
to  cool  his  heated  brain.  At  the  second  glass 
Halibut  took  an  empty  tumbler  and  helped 
himself.  Suddenly  there  was  a  singing  in  the 
Major's  ears,  and  a  voice,  a  hateful,  triumphant 
voice,  said, 

"Checkmate!" 

Then  did  his  gaze  wander  from  knight  to 
bishop  and  bishop  to  castle  in  a  vain  search  for 
succour.  There  was  his  king  defied  by  a  bishop 
— a  bishop  which  had  been  hobnobbing  with 
pawns  in  one  corner  of  the  board,  and  which 
he  could  have  sworn  he  had  captured  and  re- 
moved full  twenty  minutes  before.  He  men- 
tioned this  impression  to  Halibut. 


22O    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"That  was  the  other  one,"  said  his  foe.  "I 
thought  you  had  forgotten  this.  I  have  been 
watching  and  hoping  so  for  the  last  half-hour." 

There  was  no  disguising  the  coarse  satisfac- 
tion of  the  man.  He  had  watched  and  hoped. 
Not  beaten  him,  so  the  Major  told  himself,  in 
fair  play,  but  by  taking  a  mean  and  pitiful  ad- 
vantage of  a  pure  oversight.  A  sheer  over- 
sight. He  admitted  it. 

Halibut  rose  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  and  the 
Major,  mechanically  sweeping  up  the  pieces, 
dropped  them  one  by  one  into  the  box. 

"Plenty  of  time,"  said  the  victor,  glancing 
at  the  clock.  "I  shall  go  now,  but  I  should 
like  a  wash  first." 

The  Major  rose,  and  in  his  capacity  of  host 
led  the  way  upstairs  to  his  room,  and  poured 
fresh  water  for  his  foe.  Halibut  washed  him- 
self delicately,  carefully  trimming  his  hair  and 
beard,  and  anxiously  consulting  the  Major  as 
to  the  set  of  his  coat  in  the  back,  after  he  had 
donned  it  again. 

His  toilet  completed,  he  gave  a  satisfied 
glance  in  the  glass,  and  then  followed  the  man 
of  war  sedately  down  stairs.  At  the  hall  he 


A   Mixed   Proposal      221 

paused,  and  busied  himself  with  the  clothes- 
brush  and  hat-pad,  modestly  informing  his 
glaring  friend  that  he  could  not  afford  to 
throw  any  chances  away,  and  then  took  his 
departure. 

The  Major  sat  up  late  that  night  waiting 
for  news,  but  none  came,  and  by  breakfast-time 
next  morning  his  thirst  for  information  became 
almost  uncontrollable.  He  toyed  with  a  chop 
and  allowed  his  coffee  to  get  cold.  Then  he 
clapped  on  his  hat  and  set  off  to  Halibut's  to 
know  the  worst. 

"Well?"  he  inquired,  as  he  followed  the 
other  into  his  dining-room. 

"I  went,"  said  Halibut,  waving  him  to  a 
chair. 

"Am  I  to  congratulate  you  ?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  was  the  reply;  "per- 
haps not  just  yet." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  said  the 
Major,  irascibly. 

"Well,  as  a  matter  of  fact,"  said  Halibut, 
"she  refused  me,  but  so  nicely  and  so  gently 
that  I  scarcely  minded  it.  In  fact,  at  first  I 
hardly  realized  that  she  had  refused  me." 


222    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

The  Major  rose,  and  regarding  his  poor 
friend  kindly,  shook  and  patted  him  lightly  on 
the  shoulder. 

"She's  a  splendid  woman,"  said  Halibut. 

"Ornament  to  her  sex,"  remarked  the  Ma- 
jor. 

"So  considerate,"  murmured  the  bereaved 
one. 

"Good  women  always  are,"  said  the  Major, 
decisively.  "I  don't  think  I'd  better  worry  her 
to-day,  Halibut,  do  you?" 

"No,  I  don't,"  said  Halibut,  stiffly. 

"I'll  try  my  luck  to-morrow,"  said  the  Ma- 
jor. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Halibut. 

"Eh?"  said  the  Major,  trying  to  look  puz- 
zled. 

"You  are  forgetting  the  conditions  of  the 
game,"  replied  Halibut.  "You  have  to  obtain 
my  permission  first." 

"Why,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  the  Major, 
with  a  boisterous  laugh.  "I  wouldn't  insult  you 
by  questioning  your  generosity  in  such  a  case. 
No,  no,  Halibut,  old  fellow,  I  know  you  too 
well." 


A    Mixed   Proposal      223 

He  spoke  with  feeling,  but  there  was  an 
anxious  note  in  his  voice. 

"We  must  abide  by  the  conditions,"  said 
Halibut,  slowly;  "and  I  must  inform  you, 
Brill,  that  I  intend  to  renew  the  attack 
myself." 

"Then,  sir,"  said  the  Major,  fuming,  "you 
compel  me  to  say — putting  all  modesty  aside 
— that  I  believe  the  reason  Mrs.  Riddel  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  you  was  because  she 
thought  somebody  else  might  make  a  similar 
offer." 

"That's  what  I  thought,"  said  Halibut,  sim- 
ply ;  "but  you  see  now  that  you  have  so  unac- 
countably— so  far  as  Mrs.  Riddel  is  concerned 
— dropped  out  of  the  running,  perhaps,  if  I  am 
gently  persistent,  she'll  take  me." 

The  Major  rose  and  glared  at  him. 

"If  you  don't  take  care,  old  chap,"  said  Hali- 
but, tenderly,  "you'll  burst  something." 

"Gently  persistent,"  repeated  the  Major, 
staring  at  him ;  "gently  persistent." 

"Remember  Bruce  and  his  spider,"  smiled 
the  other. 

"You   are  not   going   to   propose   to   that 


224    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

poor  woman  nine  times?"  roared  his  incensed 
friend. 

"I  hope  that  it  will  not  be  necessary,"  was 
the  reply;  "but  if  it  is,  I  can  assure  you,  my 
dear  Brill,  that  I'm  not  going  to  be  outclassed 
by  a  mere  spider." 

"But  think  of  her  feelings!"  gasped  the 
Major. 

"I  have,"  was  the  reply ;  "and  I'm  sure  she'll 
thank  me  for  it  afterward.  You  see,  Brill,  you 
and  I  are  the  only  eligibles  in  the  place,  and 
now  you  are  out  of  it,  she's  sure  to  take  me 
sooner  or  later." 

"And  pray  how  long  am  I  to  wait?"  de- 
manded the  Major,  controlling  himself  with 
difficulty. 

"I  can't  say,"  said  Halibut;  "but  I  don't 
think  it's  any  good  your  waiting  at  all,  because 
if  I  see  any  signs  that  Mrs.  Riddel  is  waiting 
for  you  I  may  just  give  her  a  hint  of  the  hope- 
lessness of  it." 

"You're  a  perfect  Mephistopheles,  sir!" 
bawled  the  indignant  Major. 

Halibut  bowed. 


A  Mixed   Proposal      225 

"Strategy,  my  dear  Brill,"  he  said,  smiling; 
"strategy.  Now  why  waste  your  time  ?  Why 
not  make  some  other  woman  happy  ?  Why  not 
try  her  companion,  Miss  Philpotts  ?  I'm  sure 
any  little  assistance " 

The  Major's  attitude  was  so  alarming  that 
the  sentence  was  never  finished,  and  a  second 
later  the  speaker  found  himself  alone,  watching 
his  irate  friend  hurrying  frantically  down  the 
path,  knocking  the  blooms  off  the  geraniums 
with  his  cane  as  he  went.  He  saw  no  more  of 
him  for  several  weeks,  the  Major  preferring 
to  cherish  his  resentment  in  the  privacy  of 
his  house.  The  Major  also  refrained  from 
seeing  the  widow,  having  a  wholesome  dread 
as  to  what  effect  the  contemplation  of  her 
charms  might  have  upon  his  plighted 
word. 

He  met  her  at  last  by  chance.  Mrs.  Riddel 
bowed  coldly  and  would  have  passed  on,  but 
the  Major  had  already  stopped,  and  was  mak- 
ing wild  and  unmerited  statements  about  the 
weather. 

"It  is  seasonable,"  she  said,  simply. 

Q 


226  The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

The  Major  agreed  with  her,  and  with  a 
strong  effort  regained  his  composure. 

"I  was  just  going  to  turn  back/'  he  said,  un- 
truthfully; "may  I  walk  with  you?" 

"I  am  not  going  far,"  was  the  reply. 

With  soldierly  courage  the  Major  took  this 
as  permission;  with  feminine  precision  Mrs. 
Riddel  walked  about  fifty  yards  and  then 
stopped.  "I  told  you  I  wasn't  going  far,"  she 
said  sweetly,  as  she  held  out  her  hand.  "Good- 
by." 

"I  wanted  to  ask  you  something,"  said  the 
Major,  turning  with  her.  "I  can't  think  what 
it  was. 

They  walked  on  very  slowly,  the  Major's 
'heart  beating  rapidly  as  he  told  himself  that 
the  lady's  coldness  was  due  to  his  neglect  of 
the  past  few  weeks,  and  his  wrath  against  Hali- 
but rose  to  still  greater  heights  as  he  saw  the 
cruel  position  in  which  that  schemer  had  placed 
him.  Then  he  made  a  sudden  resolution. 
There  was  no  condition  as  to  secrecy,  and,  first 
turning  the  conversation  on  to  indoor  amuse- 
ments, he  told  the  astonished  Mrs.  Riddel  the 
full  particulars  of  the  fatal  game.  Mrs.  Rid- 


A   Mixed   Proposal      227 

del  said  that  she  would  never  forgive  them;  it 
was  the  most  preposterous  thing  she  had  ever 
heard  of.  And  she  demanded  hotly  whether 
she  was  to  spend  the  rest  of  her  life  in  refusing 
Mr.  Halibut. 

"Do  you  play  high  as  a  rule?"  she  inquired, 
scornfully. 

"Sixpence  a  game,"  replied  the  Major,  sim- 
ply. 

The  corners  of  Mrs.  Riddel's  mouth  relaxed, 
and  her  fine  eyes  began  to  water;  then  she 
turned  her  head  away  and  laughed.  "It  was 
very  foolish  of  us,  I  admit,"  said  the  Major, 
ruefully,  "and  very  wrong.  I  shouldn't  have 
told  you,  only  I  couldn't  explain  my  apparent 
neglect  without." 

"Apparent  neglect?"  repeated  the  widow, 
somewhat  haughtily. 

"Well,  put  it  down  to  a  guilty  conscience," 
said  the  Major;  "it  seems  years  to  me  since  I 
have  seen  you." 

"Remember  the  conditions,  Major  Brill," 
said  Mrs.  Riddel,  with  seventy. 

"I  shall  not  transgress  them,"  replied  the 
Major,  seriously. 


228     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

Mrs.  Riddel  gave  her  head  a  toss,  and  re- 
garded him  from  the  corner  of  her  eyes. 

"I  am  very  angry  with  you,  indeed,"  she 
said,  severely.  The  Major  apologized  again. 
"For  losing,"  added  the  lady,  looking  straight 
before  her. 

Major  Brill  caught  his  breath  and  his  knees 
trembled  beneath  him.  He  made  a  half-hearted 
attempt  to  seize  her  hand,  and  then  remember- 
ing his  position,  sighed  deeply  and  looked 
straight  before  him.  They  walked  on  in  silence. 

"I  think,"  said  his  companion  at  last, 
"that,  if  you  like,  you  can  get  back  at  cribbage 
what  you  lost  at  chess.  That  is,  of  course,  if 
you  really  want  to." 

"He  wouldn't  play,"  said  the  Major,  shak- 
ing his  head. 

"No,  but  I  will,"  said  Mrs.  Riddel,  with  a 
smile.  "I  think  I've  got  a  plan." 

She  blushed  charmingly,  and  then,  in  modest 
alarm  at  her  boldness,  dropped  her  voice  almost 
to  a  whisper.  The  Major  gazed  at  her  in 
speechless  admiration  and  threw  back  his  head 
in  ecstasy.  "Come  round  to-morrow  after- 
noon," said  Mrs.  Riddel,  pausing  at  the  end 


A   Mixed    Proposal      229 

of  the  lane.  "Mr.  Halibut  shall  be  there,  too, 
and  it  shall  be  done  under  his  very  eyes." 

Until  that  time  came  the  Major  sat  at  home 
carefully  rehearsing  his  part,  and  it  was  with 
an  air  of  complacent  virtue  that  he  met  the 
somewhat  astonished  gaze  of  the  persistent 
Halibut  next  day.  It  was  a  bright  afternoon, 
but  they  sat  indoors,  and  Mrs.  Riddel,  after 
an  animated  description  of  a  game  at  cribbage 
with  Miss  Philpotts  the  night  before,  got  the 
cards  out  and  challenged  Halibut  to  a  game. 

They  played  two,  both  of  which  the  diplo- 
matic Halibut  lost;  then  Mrs.  Riddel,  dismiss- 
ing him  as  incompetent,  sat  drumming  on  the 
table  with  her  fingers,  and  at  length  challenged 
the  Major.  She  lost  the  first  game  easily,  and 
began  the  second  badly.  Finally,  after  hastily 
glancing  at  a  new  hand,  she  flung  the  cards 
petulantly  on  the  table,  face  downward. 

"Would  you  like  my  hand,  Major  Brill?" 
she  demanded,  with  a  blush. 

"Better  than  anything  in  the  world,"  cried 
the  Major,  eagerly. 

Halibut  started,  and  Miss  Philpotts  nearly 
had  an  accident  with  her  crochet  hook.  The 


230    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

only  person  who  kept  cool  was  Mrs.  Riddel, 
and  it  was  quite  clear  to  the  beholders  that  she 
had  realized  neither  the  ambiguity  of  her  ques- 
tion nor  the  meaning  of  her  opponent's  reply. 

"Well,  you  may  have  it,"  she  said,  brightly. 

Before  Miss  Philpotts  could  lay  down  her 
work,  before  Mr.  Halibut  could  interpose,  the 
Major  took  possession  of  Mrs.  Riddel's  small 
white  hand  and  raised  it  gallantly  to  his  lips. 
Mrs.  Riddel,  with  a  faint  scream  which  was  a 
perfect  revelation  to  the  companion,  snatched 
.  her  hand  away.  "I  meant  my  hand  of  cards," 
she  said,  breathlessly. , 

"Really,  Brill,  really,"  said  Halibut,  stepping 
forward  fussily. 

"Oh!"  said  the  Major,  blankly;  "cards!" 

"That's  what  I  meant,  of  course,"  said  Mrs. 
Riddel,  recovering  herself  with  a  laugh.  "I 

had  no  idea still — if  you  prefer "  The 

Major  took  her  hand  again,  and  Miss  Philpotts 
set  Mr.  Halibut  an  example — which  he  did  not 
follow — by  gazing  meditatively  out  of  the  win- 
dow. Finally  she  gathered  up  her  work  and 
quitted  the  room.  Mrs.  Riddel  smiled  over  at 
Mr.  Halibut  and  nodded  toward  the  Major. 


'!DON'T  YOU  THINK  MAJOR  BRILL  is  SOMEWHAT  HASTY 

IN    HIS    CONCLUSIONS?"    SHE    INQUIRED    SOFTLY. 


A   Mixed   Proposal      231 

"Don't  you  think  Major  Brill  is  somewhat 
hasty  in  his  conclusions?"  she  inquired,  softly. 

'Til  tell  Major  Brill  what  I  think  of  him 
when  I  get  him  alone,"  said  the  injured  gentle- 
man, sourly. 


i 

An  Adulteration  Act 

I 

'^^ 


AN  ADULTERATION  ACT 

DR.  FRANK  GARSON  had  been  dreaming  tan- 
talizing dreams  of  cooling,  effervescent  bever- 
ages. Over  and  over  again  in  his  dreams  he 
had  risen  from  his  bed,  and  tripping  lightly 
down  to  the  surgery  in  his  pajamas,  mixed 
himself  something  long  and  cool  and  fizzy, 
without  being  able  to  bring  the  dream  to  a  sat- 
isfactory termination. 

With  a  sudden  start  he  awoke.  The  thirst 
was  still  upon  him;  the  materials  for  quench- 
ing it,  just  down  one  flight  of  stairs.  He 
would  have  smacked  his  lips  at  the  prospect  if 
they  had  been  moist  enough  to  smack;  as  it 
was,  he  pushed  down  the  bedclothes,  and 
throwing  one  leg  out  of  bed — became  firmly 
convinced  that  he  was  still  dreaming. 

For  the  atmosphere  was  stifling  and  odor- 
ous, and  the  ceiling  descended  in  an  odd  bulg- 


236    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

ing  curve  to  within  a  couple  of  feet  of  his  head. 
Still  half  asleep,  he  raised  his  fist  and  prodded 
at  it  in  astonishment — a  feeling  which  gave 
way  to  one  of  stupefaction  as  the  ceiling  took 
another  shape  and  swore  distinctly. 

"I  must  be  dreaming,"  mused  the  doctor; 
"even  the  ceiling  seems  alive." 

He  prodded  it  again — regarding  it  closely 
this  time.  The  ceiling  at  once  rose  to  greater 
altitudes,  and  at  the  same  moment  an  old  face 
with  bushy  whiskers  crawled  under  the  edge  of 
it,  and  asked  him  profanely  what  he  meant  by 
it.  It  also  asked  him  whether  he  wanted  some- 
thing for  himself,  because,  if  so,  he  was  going 
the  right  way  to  work. 

"Where  am  I?"  demanded  the  bewildered 
doctor.  '  'Mary !  Mary  /" 

He  started  up  in  bed,  and  brought  his  head 
in  sudden  violent  contact  with  tr*  ceiling. 
Then,  before  the  indignant  ceiling  could  carry 
out  its  threat  of  a  moment  before,  he  slipped 
out  of  bed  and  stood  on  a  floor  which  was  in  its 
place  one  moment  and  somewhere  else  the  next. 

In  the  smell  of  bilge-water,  tar,  and  the  foetid 
atmosphere  generally  his  clouded  brain  awoke 


An  Adulteration  Act      237 

to  the  fact  that  he  was  on  board  ship,  but  reso- 
lutely declined  to  inform  him  how  he  got  there. 
He  looked  down  in  disgust  at  the  ragged 
clothes  which  he  had  on  in  lieu  of  the  usual  pa- 
jamas ;  and  then,  as  events  slowly  pieced  them- 
selves together  in  his  mind,  remembered,  as 
the  last  thing  that  he  could  remember,  that  he 
had  warned  his  friend  Harry  Thomson,  solici- 
tor, that  if  he  had  any  more  to  drink  it  would 
not  be  good  for  him. 

He  wondered  dimly  as  he  stood  whether 
Thomson  was  there  too,  and  walking  unstead- 
ily round  the  forecastle,  roused  the  sleepers, 
one  by  one,  and  asked  them  whether  they  were 
Harry  Thomson,  all  answering  with  mudi 
fluency  in  the  negative,  until  he  came  to  one 
man  who  for  some  time  made  no  answer  at  all. 

The  doctor  shook  him  first  and  then  punched 
him.  Then  he  shook  him  again  and  gave  him 
little  scientific  slaps,  until  at  length  Harry 
Thomson,  in  a  far-away  voice,  said  that  he  was 
all  right. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  I'm  not  alone,"  said  the  doc- 
tor, selfishly.  "Harry!  Harry!  Wake  up!" 

"AllriM"  said  the  sleeper;  "I'mallri'!" 


238    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

The  doctor  shook  him  again,  and  then  rolled 
him  backward  and  forward  in  his  bunk. 
Under  this  gentle  treatment  the  solicitor's  fac- 
ulties were  somewhat  brightened,  and,  half 
opening  his  eyes,  he  punched  viciously  at  the 
disturber  of  his  peace,  until  threatening  voices 
from  the  gloom  promised  to  murder  both  of 
them. 

"Where  are  we?"  demanded  the  doctor,  of  a 
deep  voice  from  the  other  side  of  the  forecastle 
which  had  been  particularly  threatening. 

"Barque  Stella,  o'  course,"  was  the  reply. 
"Where'd  you  think  you  was  ?" 

The  doctor  gripped  the  edge  of  his  friend's 
bunk  and  tried  to  think ;  then,  a  feeling  of  nau- 
sea overcoming  all  others,  he  clambered  hur- 
riedly up  the  forecastle  ladder  and  lurched  to 
the  side  of  the  vessel. 

He  leaned  there  for  some  time  without  mov- 
ing, a  light  breeze  cooling  his  fevered  brow, 
and  a  small  schooner  some  little  distance  from 
them  playing  seesaw,  as  he  closed  his  eyes  to 
the  heaving  blue  sea.  Land  was  conspicuous 
by  its  absence,  and  with  a  groan  he  turned  and 
looked  about  him — at  the  white  scrubbed  deck, 


An  Adulteration  Act      239 

the  snowy  canvas  towering  aloft  on  lazily 
creaking  spars,  and  the  steersman  leaning 
against  the  wheel  regarding  the  officer  who 
stood  near  by. 

Dr.  Carson,  feeling  a  little  better,  walked 
sternly  aft,  the  officer  turning  round  and  glanc- 
ing in  surprise  at  his  rags  as  he  approached. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  began  the  doctor,  in 
superior  tones. 

"And  what  the  devil  do  you  want?"  de- 
manded the  second  officer;  "who  told  you  to 
come  along  here?" 

"I  want  to  know  what  this  means,"  said  the 
doctor,  fiercely.  "How  dare  you  kidnap  us  on 
your  beastly  bilge-tank?" 

"Man's  mad,"  murmured  the  astonished 
second  officer. 

"Insufferable  outrage!"  continued  the  doc- 
tor. "Take  us  back  to  Melbourne  at  once." 

"You  get  for'ard,"  said  the  other  sharply; 
"get  for'ard,  and  don't  let  me  have  any  more 
of  your  lip." 

"I  want  to  see  the  captain  of  this  ship,"  cried 
the  doctor;  "go  and  fetch  him  at  once." 

The  second  officer  gazed  at  him,  limp  with 


240    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

astonishment,  and  then  turned  to  the  steers- 
man, as  though  unable  to  believe  his  ears. 
The  steersman  pointed  in  front  of  him,  and  the 
other  gave  a  cry  of  surprise  and  rage  as  he  saw 
another  tatterdemalion  coming  with  uncertain 
steps  toward  him. 

"Carson,"  said  the  new  arrival,  feebly;  and 
coming  closer  to  his  friend,  clung  to  him  miser- 
ably. 

"I'm  just  having  it  out  with  'em,  Thomson," 
said  the  doctor,  energetically.  "My  friend 
here  is  a  solicitor.  Tell  him  what  '11  happen 
if  they  don't  take  us  back,  Harry." 

"You  seem  to  be  unaware,  my  good  fellow/' 
said  the  solicitor,  covering  a  large  hole  in  the 
leg  of  his  trousers  with  his  hand,  "of  the  very 
dangerous  situation  in  which  you  have  placed 
yourselves.  We  have  no  desire  to  be  harsh 
with  you " 

"Not  at  all,"  acquiesced  the  doctor,  nodding 
at  the  second  officer. 

"At  the  same  time,"  continued  Mr.  Thom- 
son— "at  the "  Be  let  go  his  friend's  arm 

and  staggered  away;  the  doctor  gazed  after 
him  sympathetically. 


HE    SAW    ANOTHER    TATTERDEMALION    COMING    TOWARDS   HIM. 


An  Adulteration  Act      241 

"His  digestion  is  not  all  it  should  be,"  he 
said  to  the  second  officer,  confidentially. 

"If  you  don't  get  for'ard  in  two  twos," 
said  that  gentleman,  explosively,  "I'll  knock 
your  heads  off." 

The  doctor  gazed  at  him  in  haughty  disdain, 
and  taking  the  limp  Thomson  by  the  arm,  led 
him  slowly  away. 

"How  did  we  get  here?"  asked  Mr.  Harry 
Thomson,  feebly. 

The  doctor  shook  his  head. 

"How  did  we  get  these  disgusting  clothes 
on?"  continued  his  friend. 

The  doctor  shook  his  head  again.  "The 
last  thing  I  can  remember,  Harry,"  he  said, 
slowly,  "was  imploring  you  not  to  drink  any 
more." 

"I  didn't  hear  you,"  said  the  solicitor,  crust- 
ily; "your  speech  was  very  indistinct  last 
night." 

"Seemed  so  to  you,  I  dare  say,"  said  the 
other. 

Mr.  Thomson  shook  his  arm  off,  and  cling- 
ing to  the  mainmast,  leaned  his  cheek  against 
it  and  closed  his  eyes.  He  opened  them  again 


242     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

at  the  sound  of  voices,  and  drew  himself  up  as 
he  saw  the  second  officer  coming  along  with  a 
stern-visaged  man  of  about  fifty. 

"Are  you  the  master  of  this  vessel?"  in- 
quired the  doctor,  stepping  to  his  friend's  side. 

"What  the  blazes  has  that  got  to  do  with 
you?"  demanded  the  skipper.  "Look  here, 
my  lads;  don't  you  play  any  of  your  little 
g-ames  on  me,  because  they  won't  do.  You're 
both  of  you  as  drunk  as  owls." 

"Defamation  of  character,"  said  the  solici- 
tor, feebly,  to  his  friend. 

"Allow  me,"  said  the  doctor,  with  his  best 
manner,  "to  inquire  what  all  this  means.  I 
am  Dr.  Frank  Carson,  of  Melbourne;  this  gen- 
tleman is  my  friend  Mr.  Thomson,  of  the  same 
place,  solicitor." 

"What?"  roared  the  skipper,  the  veins  in  his 
forehead  standing  out.  "Doctor!  Solicitor! 
Why,  you  damned  rascals,  you  shipped  with  me 
as  cook  and  A.  B." 

"There's  some  mistake,"  said  the  doctor. 
"I'm  afraid  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  take  us 
back.  I  hope  you  haven't  come  far." 

"Take  those  scarecrows   away,"   cried   the 


An  Adulteration  Act      243 

skipper,  hoarsely;  "take  them  away  before  I 
do  them  a  mischief.  I'll  have  the  law  of  some- 
body for  shipping  two  useless  lubbers  as  sea- 
men. Look  to  me  like  pickpockets." 

"You  shall  answer  for  this,"  said  Carson, 
foaming;  "we're  professional  men,  and  we're 
not  going  to  be  abused  by  a  bargee." 

"Let  him  talk,"  said  Mr.  Thomson,  hurried- 
ly drawing  his  friend  away  from  the  irate  skip- 
per. "Let  him  talk." 

"I'll  put  you  both  in  quod  when  we  get  to 
Hong-kong,"  said  the  skipper.  "Meantime, 
no  work,  no  food ;  d'ye  hear  ?  Start  and  cook 
the  breakfast,  Mr.  Doctor ;  and  you,  Mr.  Law- 
yer, turn  to  and  ask  the  boy  to  teach  you  an 
A.  B's  duties." 

He  walked  back  to  the  cabin;  and  the  new 
cook  was  slowly  pushed  toward  the  galley  by 
the  second  officer,  the  new  A.  B.,  under  the 
same  gentle  guidance,  being  conducted  back  to 
the  forecastle. 

Fortunately  for  the  new  seamen  the  weather 
continued  fine,  but  the  heat  of  the  galley  was 
declared  by  the  new  cook  to  be  insupportable. 
From  the  other  hands  thev  learned  that  they 


244    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

had  been  shipped  with  several  others  by  a  re- 
sourceful boarding-house  master.  The  other 
hands,  being  men  of  plain  speech,  also  said  that 
they  were  brought  aboard  in  a  state  of  beastly 
and  enviable  intoxication,  and  chaffed  crudely 
when  the  doctor  attributed  their  apparent  state 
of  intoxication  to  drugs. 

"You  say  you're  a  doctor?"  said  the  oldest 
seaman. 

"I  am,"  said  Carson,  fiercely. 

"Wot  sort  of  a  doctor  are  you,  if  you  don't 
know  when  your  licker's  been  played  with, 
then?"  asked  the  old  man,  as  a  grin  passed 
slowly  from  mouth  to  mouth. 

"I  suppose  it  is  because  I  drink  so  seldom," 
said  the  doctor,  loftily.  "I  hardly  know  the 
taste  of  liquor  myself,  while  as  for  my  friend 
Mr.  Thomson,  you  might  almost  call  him  a  tee- 
totaler. 

"Next  door  to  one,"  said  the  solicitor,  who 
was  sewing  a  patch  on  his  trousers,  as  he 
looked  up  approvingly. 

"You  might  call  'im  a  sailor,  if  you  liked," 
said  another  seaman,  "but  that  wouldn't  make 
him  one.  All  I  can  say  is  I  never  'ad  enough 


''•YOU  SAY  YOU'RE  A  DOCTOR?" 


An  Adulteration  Act      245 

time  or  money  to  get  in  the  state  you  was  both 
in  when  you  come  aboard." 

If  the  forecastle  was  incredulous,  the  cabin 
was  worse.  The  officers  at  first  took  but  little 
notice  of  them,  but  feeling  their  torn  and  tat- 
tered appearance  was  against  them,  they  put 
on  so  many  airs  and  graces  to  counteract  this 
that  flesh  and  blood  could  not  endure  it  quietly. 
The  cook  would  allude  to  his  friend  as  Mr. 
Thomson,  while  the  A.  B.  would  persist  in  re- 
ferring, with  a  most  affected  utterance,  to  Dr. 
Carson. 

"Cook!"  bawled  the  skipper  one  day  when 
they  were  about  a  week  out. 

Dr.  Carson,  who  was  peeling  potatoes, 
stepped  slowly  out  of  the  galley  and  went  to- 
ward him. 

"You  say  'Sir/  when  you're  spoken  to/'  said 
the  skipper,  fiercely. 

The  doctor  sneered. 

"My — if  you  sneer  at  me,  I'll  knock  your 
head  off!"  said  the  other,  with  a  wicked  look. 

"When  you  get  back  to  Melbourne,"  said 
the  doctor,  quietly,  "you'll  hear  more  of  this." 

"You're  a  couple  of  pickpockets  aping  the 


246     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

gentleman,"  said  the  skipper,  and  lie  turned  to 
the  mate.  "Mr.  Mackenzie,  what  do  these  two 
ragamuffins  look  like?" 

"Pickpockets,"  said  the  mate,  dutifully. 

"It's  a  very  handy  thing,"  said  the  old  man, 
jeeringly,  "to  have  a  doctor  aboard.  First  time 
I've  carried  a  surgeon." 

Mr.  Mackenzie  guffawed  loudly. 

"And  a  solicitor,"  said  the  skipper,  gazing 
darkly  at  the  hapless  Harry  Thomson,  who 
was  cleaning  brasswork.  "Handy  in  case  of 
disputes.  He's  a  real  sea  lawyer.  Cook!" 

"Sir?"  said  the  doctor,  quietly. 

"Go  down  and  tidy  my  cabin,  and  see  you  do 
it  well." 

The  doctor  went  below  without  a  word,  and 
worked  like  a  housemaid.  When  he  came  on 
deck  again,  his  face  wore  a  smile  almost  of 
happiness,  and  his  hand  caressed  one  trousers 
pocket  as  though  it  concealed  a  hidden  weapon. 

For  the  following  three  or  four  days  the  two 
unfortunates  were  worked  unceasingly.  Mr. 
Thomson  complained  bitterly,  but  the  cook 
wore  a  sphinxlike  smile  and  tried  to  comfort 
him. 


An  Adulteration  Act      247 

"It  won't  be  for  long,  Harry,"  he  said,  con- 
solingly. 

The  solicitor  sniffed.  "I  could  write  tract 
after  tract  on  temperance,"  he  said,  bitterly. 
"I  wonder  what  our  poor  wives  are  thinking? 
I  expect  they  have  put  us  down  as  dead." 

"Crying  their  eyes  out,"  said  the  doctor, 
wistfully ;  "but  they'll  dry  them  precious  quick 
when  we  get  back,  and  ask  all  sorts  of  ques- 
tions. What  are  you  going  to  say,  Harry  ?" 

"The  truth,"  said  the  solicitor,  virtuously. 

"So  am  I,"  said  his  friend;  "but  mind,  we 
must  both  tell  the  same  tale,  whatever  it  is. 
Halloa!  what's  the  matter?" 

"It's  the  skipper,"  said  the  boy,  who  had 
just  run  up;  "he  wants  to  see  you  at  once. 
He's  dying." 

He  caught  hold  of  the  doctor  by  the  sleeve; 
but  Carson,  in  his  most  professional  manner, 
declined  to  be  hurried.  He  went  leisurely 
down  the  companion-ladder,  and  met  with  a 
careless  glance  the  concerned  faces  of  the  mate 
and  second  officer. 

"Come  to  the  skipper  at  once,"  said  the 
mate. 


248     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Does  he  want  to  see  me?"  said  the  doc- 
tor, languidly,  as  he  entered  the  cabin. 

The  skipper  was  lying  doubled  up  in  his 
bunk,  his  face  twisted  with  pain.  "Doctor," 
he  panted,  "give  me  something  quick.  There's 
the  medicine-chest." 

"Do  you  want  some  food,  sir?"  inquired  the 
other,  respectfully. 

"Food  be  damned!"  said  the  sufferer.  "I 
want  physic.  There's  the  medicine-chest." 

The.  doctor  took  it  up  and  held  it  out  to  him. 

"I  don't  want  the  lot,"  moaned  the  skipper. 
"I  want  you  to  give  me  something  for  red-hot 
corkscrews  in  the  inside." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  doctor,  hum- 
bly; "I'm  only  the  cook." 

"If  you — don't — prescribe  for  me  at  once/' 
said  the  skipper,  "I'll  put  you  in  irons." 

The  doctor  shook  his  head.  "I  shipped  as 
cook,"  he  said,  slowly. 

"Give  me  something,  fer  Heaven's  sake!" 
said  the  skipper,  humbly.  "I'm  dying." 

The  doctor  pondered. 

"If  you  dinna  treat  him  at  once,  I'll  break 
your  skull,"  said  the  mate,  persuasively. 


An  Adulteration  Act      249 

'  The  doctor  Regarded  him  scornfully,  and 
turned  to  the  writhing  skipper. 

"My  fee  is  half  a  guinea  a  visit,"  he  said, 
softly;  "five  shillings  if  you  come  to  me." 

"I'll  have  half  a  guinea's  worth,"  said  the 
agonized  skipper. 

The  doctor  took  his  wrist,  and  calmly  drew 
the  second  officer's  watch  from  its  owner's 
pocket.  Then  he  inspected  the  sick  man's 
tongue,  and  shaking  his  head,  selected  a  powder 
from  the  chest. 

"You  mustn't  mind  its  being  nasty,"  he  said. 
"Where's  a  spoon?" 

He  looked  round  for  one,  but  the  skipper 
took  the  powder  from  his  hand,  and  licked  it 
from  the  paper  as  though  it  had  been  sherbet. 

"For  mercy's  sake  don't  say  it's  cholera," 
he  gasped. 

"I  won't  say  anything,"  said  the  doctor. 
"Where  did  you  say  the  money  was?" 

The  skipper  pointed  to  his  trousers,  and  Mr. 
Mackenzie,  his  national  spirit  rising  in  hot 
rage,  took  out  the  agreed  amount  and  handed 
it  to  the  physician. 

"Am  I  in  danger?"  said  the  skipper. 


250    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"There's  always  danger,"  said  the  doctor,  in 
his  best  bedside  manner.  "Have  you  made 
your  will?" 

The  other,  turning  pale,  shook  his  head. 

"Perhaps  you'd  like  to  see  a  solicitor?"  said 
Carson,  in  winning  tones. 

"I'm  not  bad  enough  for  that,"  said  the  skip- 
per, stoutly. 

"You  must  stay  here  and  nurse  the  skipper, 
Mr.  Mackenzie,"  said  Carson,  turning  to  the 
mate;  "and  be  good  enough  not  to  make  that 
snuffling  noise;  it's  worrying  to  an  invalid." 

"Snuffling  noise?"  repeated  the  horror- 
struck  mate. 

"Yes;  you've  got  an  unpleasant  habit  of 
snuffling,"  said  the  doctor;  "it  worries  me 
sometimes.  I  meant  to  speak  to  you  about  it 
before.  You  mustn't  do  it  here.  If  you  want 
to  snuffle,  go  and  snuffle  on  deck." 

The  frenzied  outburst  of  the  mate  was  inter- 
rupted by  the  skipper.  "Don't  make  that  noise 
in  my  cabin,  Mr.  Mackenzie,"  he  said,  severely. 

Both  mates  withdrew  in  dudgeon,  and  Car- 
son, after  arranging  the  sufferer's  bedclothes, 
quitted  the  cabin  and  sought  his  friend.  Mr. 


An  Adulteration  Act      251 

Thomson  was  at  first  incredulous,  but  his  eyes 
glistened  brightly  at  the  sight  of  the  half-sov- 
ereign. 

"Better  hide  it,"  he  said,  apprehensively; 
"the  skipper  '11  have  it  back  when  he  gets  well ; 
it's  the  only  coin  we've  got." 

"He  won't  get  well,"  said  Dr.  Carson,  easily; 
"not  till  we  get  to  Hong-kong,  that  is." 

"What's  the  matter  with  him?"  whispered 
the  solicitor. 

The  doctor,  evading  his  eye,  pulled  a  long 
face  and  shook  his  head.  "It  may  be  the  cook- 
ing," he  said,  slowly.  "I'm  not  a  good  cook,  I 
admit.  It  might  be  something  got  into  the 
food  from  the  medicine-chest.  I  shouldn't  be 
at  all  surprised  if  the  mates  are  taken  bad  too." 

And  indeed  at  that  very  moment  the  boy 
came  rushing  to  the  galley  again,  bawling  out 
that  Mr.  Mackenzie  was  lying  flat  on  his  stom- 
ach in  his  bunk,  punching  the  air  with  his  fists 
and  rending  it  with  his  language.  The  sec- 
ond officer  appeared  on  deck  as  he  finished  his 
tale,  and  glancing  forward,  called  out  loudly 
for  the  cook. 

"You're  wanted,  Frank,"  said  the  solicitor. 


252     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"When  he  calls  me  doctor,  I'll  go,"  said  the 
other,  stiffly. 

"Cook!"  bawled  the  second  officer.  "Cook'! 
COOK!" 

He  came  running  forward,  his  face  red  and 
angry,  and  his  fist  doubled.  "Didn't  you  hear 
me  calling  you?"  he  demanded,  fiercely. 

"I've  been  promoted,"  said  Carson,  sweetly. 
"I'm  ship's  surgeon  now." 

"Come  down  below  at  once,  or  I'll  take  you 
there  by  the  scruff  of  your  neck,"  vociferated 
the  other. 

"You're  not  big  enough,  little  man,"  said 
the  doctor,  still  smiling.  "Well,  well,  lead  the 
way,  and  we'll  see  what  we  can  do." 

He  followed  the  speechless  second  officer  be- 
low, and  found  the  boy's  description  of  the  first 
officer's  state  as  moonlight  unto  sunlight,  as 
water  unto  wine.  Even  the  second  officer  was 
appalled  at  the  spectacle,  and  ventured  a  pro- 
test. 

"Gie  me  something  at  once,"  yelled  Mr.  Mac- 
kenzie. 

"Do  you  wish  me  to  undertake  your  case?" 
inquired  the  doctor,  suavely. 


An  Adulteration  Act      253 

Mr.  Mackenzie  said  that  he  did,  in  seven 
long,  abusive,  and  wicked  sentences. 

"My  fee  is  half  a  guinea,"  said  the  doctor, 
softly,  poor  people  who  cannot  afford  more, 
mates  and  the  like,  I  sometimes  treat  for 
less." 

"I'll  die  first,"  howled  the  mate;  "you  won't 
get  any  money  out  of  me." 

"Very  good,"  said  the  doctor,  and  rose  to  de- 
part. 

"Bring  him  back,  Rogers,"  yelled  the  mate ; 
"don't  let  him  go." 

But  the  second  officer,  with  a  strange  awe- 
some look  in  his  eyes,  was  leaning  back  in  his 
seat,  tightly  gripping  the  edge  of  the  table  in 
both  hands. 

"Come,  come,"  said  the  doctor,  cheerily; 
"what's  this?  You  mustn't  be  ill,  Rogers.  I 
want  you  to. nurse  these  other  two." 

The  other  rose  slowly  to  his  feet  and  eyed 
him  with  lack-lustre  eyes.  "Tell  the  third  offi- 
cer to  take  charge,"  he  said,  slowly;  "and  if 
he's  to  be  nurse  as  well,  he's  got  his  hands  full." 

The  doctor  sent  the  boy  to  apprise  the  third 
officer  of  his  responsibilities,  and  then  stood 


254     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

watching  the  extraordinary  and  snakelike  con- 
volutions of  Mr.  Mackenzie. 

"How  much — did — ye  say?"  hissed  the  lat- 
ter. 

"Poor  people,"  repeated  the  doctor,  with  rel- 
ish, "five  shillings  a  visit;  very  poor  people, 
half  a  crown." 

"I'll  have  half  a  crown's  worth,"  moaned 
the  miserable  mate. 

"Mr.  Mackenzie,"  said  a  faint  voice  from  the 
skipper's  cabin. 

"Sir?"  yelled  the  mate,  who  was  in  torment. 

"Don't  answer  me  like  that,  sir,"  said  the 
skipper,  sharply.  "Will  you  please  to  remem- 
ber that  I'm  ill,  and  can't  bear  that  horrible 
noise  you're  making?" 

"I'm — ill — too,"  gasped  the  mate. 

"111?  Nonsense!"  said  the  skipper,  severe- 
ly. "We  can't  both  be  ill.  How  about  the 
ship?" 

There  was  no  reply,  but  from  another  cabin 
the  voice  of  Mr.  Rogers  was  heard  calling  wild- 
ly for  medical  aid,  and  offering  impossible  sums 
in  exchange  for  it.  The  doctor  went  from 
cabin  to  cabin,  and,  first  collecting  his  fees,  ad- 


An  Adulteration  Act      255 

ministered  sundry  potions  to  the  sufferers ;  and 
then,  in  his  capacity  of  cook,  went  forward  and 
made  an  unsavory  mess  he  called  gruel,  which 
he  insisted  upon  their  eating. 

Thanks  to  his  skill,  the  invalids  were  freed 
from  the  more  violent  of  their  pains,  but  this 
freedom  was  followed  by  a  weakness  so  alarm- 
ing that  they  could  hardly  raise  their  heads 
from  their  pillows — a  state  of  things  which  ex- 
cited the  intense  envy  of  the  third  officer,  who. 
owing  to  his  responsibilities,  might  just  as  well 
have  been  without  one. 

In  this  state  of  weakness,  and  with  the  fear 
of  impending  dissolution  before  his  eyes,  the 
skipper  sent  for  Mr.  Harry  Thomson,  and  after 
some  comparisons  between  lawyers  and  sharks, 
in  which  stress  was  laid  upon  certain  redeem- 
ing features  of  the  latter,  paid  a  guinea  and 
made  his  will.  His  example,  save  in  the 
amount  of  the  fee,  was  followed  by  the  mate; 
but  Mr.  Rogers,  being  approached  tentatively 
by  the  doctor  in  his  friend's  behalf,  shook  his 
head  and  thanked  his  stars  he  had  nothing  to 
leave.  He  had  enjoyed  his  money,  he  said. 

They   mended   slowly   as   they   approached 


256     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

Hong-kong,  though  a  fit  of  temper  on  Mr. 
Mackenzie's  part,  during  which  he  threw  out 
ominous  hints  about  having  his  money  back, 
led  to  a  regrettable  relapse  in  his  case.  He  was 
still  in  bed  when  they  came  to  anchor  in  the 
harbour ;  but  the  skipper  and  his  second  officer 
were  able  to  go  above  and  exchange  congratu- 
lations from  adjoining  deck-chairs. 

"You  are  sure  it  wasn't  cholera?"  asked  the 
harbour-master's  deputy,  who  had  boarded 
them  in  his  launch,  after  he  had  heard  the  story. 

"Positive,"  said  Carson. 

"Very  fortunate  thing  they  had  you  on 
board,"  said  the  deputy — "very  fortunate." 

The  doctor  bowed. 

"Seems  so  odd,  the  three  of  them  being  down 
with  it,"  said  the  other;  "looks  as  though  it's 
infectious,  doesn't  it?" 

"I  don't  think  so,"  said  the  doctor,  accept- 
ing with  alacrity  an  offer  to  go  ashore  in  the 
launch  and  change  into  some  decent  clothes. 
"I  think  I  know  what  it  was." 

The  captain  of  the  Stella  pricked  up  his  ears, 
and  the  second  officer  leaned  forward  with 
parted  lips.  Carson,  accompanied  by  the 


THE    SECOND    OFFICER    LEANED    FORWARD. 


An  Adulteration  Act      257 

deputy  and  the  solicitor,  walked  toward  the 
launch. 

"What  was  it?"  cried  the  skipper,  anxi- 
ously. 

"I  think  that  you  ate  something  that  dis- 
agreed with  you,"  replied  the  doctor,  grinning 
meaningly.  "Good-by,  captain." 

The  master  of  the  Stella  made  no  reply,  but 
rising  feebly,  tottered  to  the  side,  and  shook  his 
fist  at  the  launch  as  it  headed  for  the  shore. 
Doctor  Carson,  who  had  had  a  pious  upbring- 
ing, kissed  his  hand  in  return. 


I 

A   Golden  Venture          5 


! 

9'^^^^'^^^^'^^'^^'^^'^9^^'^9^^9^^'^9) 


A   GOLDEN  VENTURE 

| 

THE  elders  of  the  Tidger  family  sat  at 
breakfast — Mrs.  Tidger  with  knees  wide  apart 
and  the  youngest  Tidger  nestling  in  the  valley 
of  print-dress  which  lay  between,  and  Mr.  Tid- 
ger bearing  on  one  moleskin  knee  a  small 
copy  of  himself  in  a  red  flannel  frock  and  a 
slipper.  The  larger  Tidger  children  took  the 
solids  of  their  breakfast  up  and  down  the  stone- 
flagged  court  outside,  coming  in  occasionally 
to  gulp  draughts  of  very  weak  tea  from  a  gal- 
lipot or  two  which  stood  on  the  table,  and  to 
wheedle  Mr.  Tidger  out  of  any  small  piece  of 
bloater  which  he  felt  generous  enough  to  bo- 
stow. 

"Peg  away,  Ann,"  said  Mr.  Tidger,  heartily. 

His  wife's  elder  sister  shook  her  head,  and 
passing  the  remains  of  her  slice  to  one  of  her 
small  nephews,  leaned  back  in  her  chair.  "No 
appetite,  Tidger,"  she  said,  slowly. 


262    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"You  should  go  in  for  carpentering,"  said 
Mr.  Tidger,  in  justification  of  the  huge 
crust  he  was  carving  into  mouthfuls  with 
his  pocket-knife.  "Seems  to  me  I  can't 
eat  enough  sometimes.  Hullo,  who's  the 
letter  for?" 

He  took  it  from  the  postman,  who  stood  at 
the  door  amid  a  bevy  of  Tidgers  who  had  fol- 
lowed him  up  the  court,  and  slowly  read  the 
address. 

"  'Mrs.  Ann  Pullen,'  "  he  said,  handing  it 
over  to  his  sister-in-law;  "nice  writing,  too." 

Mrs.  Pullen  broke  the  envelope,  and  after 
a  somewhat  lengthy  search  for  her  pocket,  fum- 
bled therein  for  her  spectacles.  She  then 
searched  the  mantelpiece,  the  chest  of  drawers, 
and  the  dresser,  and  finally  ran  them  to  earth 
on  the  copper. 

She  was  not  a  good  scholar,  and  it  took  her 
some  time  to  read  the  letter,  a  proceeding 
which  she  punctuated  with  such  "Ohs"  and 
"Ahs"  and  gaspings  and  "God  bless  my  souls" 
as  nearly  drove  the  carpenter  and  his  wife,  who 
were  leaning-  forward  impatiently,  to  the  verge 
of  desperation. 


A  Golden  Venture       263 

"Who's  it  from?"  asked  Mr.  Tidger  for  the 
third  time. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Mrs.  Pullen.  "Good 
gracious,  who  ever  would  ha'  thought  it!" 

'Thought  what,  Ann?"  demanded  the  car- 
penter, feverishly. 

"Why  don't  people  write  their  names  plain?" 
demanded  his  sister-in-law,  impatiently.  "It's 
got  a  printed  name  up  in  the  corner;  perhaps 
that's  it.  Well,  I  never  did — I  don't  know 
whether  I'm  standing  on  my  head  or  my 
heels." 

"You're  sitting  down,  that's  what  you're 
a-doing,"  said  the  carpenter,  regarding  her 
somewhat  unfavourably. 

"Perhaps  it's  a  take-in,"  said  Mrs.  Pullen, 
her  lips  trembling.  "I've  heard  o'  such  things. 
If  it  is,  I  shall  never  get  over  it — never." 

"Get — over — what?"  asked  the  carpenter. 

"It  don't  look  like  a  take-in,"  soliloquized 
Mrs.  Pullen,  "and  I  shouldn't  think  anybody' d 
go  to  all  that  trouble  and  spend  a  penny  to  take 
in  a  poor  thing  like  me." 

Mr.  Tidger,  throwing  politeness  to  the 
winds,  leaped  forward,  and  snatching  the  letter 


264    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

from  her,  read  it  with  feverish  haste,  tempered 
by  a  defective  education. 

"It's  a  take-in,  Ann,"  he  said,  his  voice 
trembling;  "it  must  be." 

"What  is?"  asked  Mrs.  Tidger,  impatiently. 

"Looks  like  it,"  said  Mrs.  Pullen,  feebly. 

"What  is  it?"  screamed  Mrs.  Tidger, 
wrought  beyond  all  endurance. 

Her  husband  turned  and  regarded  her  with 
much  severity,  but  Mrs.  Tidger's  gaze  was  the 
stronger,  and  after  a  vain  attempt  to  meet  it, 
he  handed  her  the  letter. 

Mrs.  Tidger  read  it  through  hastily,  and 
then  snatching  the  baby  from  her  lap,  held  it 
out  with  both  arms  to  her  husband,  and  jump- 
ing up,  kissed  her  sister  heartily,  patting  her 
on  the  back  in  her  excitement  until  she  coughed 
with  the  pain  of  it. 

"You  don't  think  it's  a  take-in,  Polly?"  she 
inquired. 

"Take-in?"  said  her  sister;  "of  course  it 
ain't.  Lawyers  don't  play  jokes;  their  time's 
too  valuable.  No,  you're  an  heiress  all  right, 
Ann,  and  I  wish  you  joy.  I  couldn't  be  more 
pleased  if  it  was  myself." 


A  Golden  Venture       265 

She  kissed  her  again,  and  going  to  pat  her 
back  once  more,  discovered  that  she  had  sunk 
down  sufficiently  low  in  her  chair  to  obtain  the 
protection  of  its  back. 

"Two  thousand  pounds,"  said  Mrs.  Pullen, 
in  an  awestruck  voice. 

"Ten  hundered  pounds  twice  over,"  said  the 
carpenter,  mouthing  it  slowly;  "twenty  hun- 
dered pounds." 

He  got  up  from  the  table,  and  instinctively 
realizing  that  he  could  not  do  full  justice  to  his 
feelings  with  the  baby  in  his  arms,  laid  it  on  the 
teatray  in  a  puddle  of  cold  tea  and  stocd  look- 
ing hard  at  the  heiress. 

"I  was  housekeeper  to  her  eleven  years  ago," 
said  Mrs.  Pullen.  "I  wonder  what  she  left  it 
tome  for?" 

"Didn't  know  what  to  do  with  it,  I  should 
think,"  said  the  carpenter,  still  staring  open- 
mouthed. 

"Tidger,  I'm  ashamed  of  you,"  said  his  wife, 
snatching  her  infant  to  her  bosom.  "I  expect 
you  was  very  good  to  her,  Ann." 

"I  never  'ad  no  luck,"  said  the  impenitent 
carpenter.  "Nobody  ever  left  me  no  money. 


266    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

Nobody  ever  left  me  so  much  as  a  fi-pun 
note." 

He  stared  round  disdainfully  at  his  poor  be- 
longings, and  drawing  on  his  coat,  took  his  bag 
from  a  corner,  and  hoisting  it  on  his  shoulder, 
started  to  his  work.  He  scattered  the  news  as 
he  went,  and  it  ran  up  and  down  the  little  main 
street  of  Thatcham,  and  thence  to  the  outlying 
lanes  and  cottages.  Within  a  couple  of  hours 
it  was  common  property,  and  the  fortunate 
legatee  was  presented  with  a  congratulatory 
address  every  time  she  ventured  near  the  door. 

It  is  an  old  adage  that  money  makes  friends ; 
the  carpenter  was  surprised  to  find  that  the 
mere  fact  of  his  having  a  moneyed  relation  had 
the  same  effect,  and  that  men  to  whom  he  had 
hitherto  shown  a  certain  amount  of  respect  due 
to  their  position  now  sought  his  company. 
They  stood  him  beer  at  the  "Bell,"  and  walked 
by  his  side  through  the  street.  When  they 
took  to  dropping  in  of  an  evening  to  smoke  a 
pipe  the  carpenter  was  radiant  with  happiness. 

"You  don't  seem  to  see  beyond  the  end  of 
your  nose,  Tidger,"  said  the  wife  of  his  bosom 
after  they  had  retired  one  evening. 


A  Golden  Venture       267 

"H'm?"  said  the  startled  carpenter. 

"What  do  you  think  old  Miller,  the  dealer, 
comes  here  for?"  demanded  his  wife. 

"Smoke  his  pipe,"  replied  her  husband,  con- 
fidently. 

"And  old  Wiggett?"  persisted  Mrs.  Tidger. 

"Smoke  his  pipe,"  was  the  reply.  "Why, 
what's  the  matter,  Polly?" 

Mrs.  Tidger  sniffed  derisively.  "You  men 
are  all  alike,"  she  snapped.  "What  do  you 
think  Ann  wears  that  pink  bodice  for?" 

"I  never  noticed  she  'ad  a  pink  bodice, 
Polly,"  said  the  carpenter. 

"No?  That's  what  I  say.  You  men  never 
notice  anything,"  said  his  wife.  "If  you  don't 
send  them  two  old  fools  off,  I  will." 

"Don't  you  like  'em  to  see  Ann  wearing 
pink  ?"  inquired  the  mystified  Tidger. 

Mrs.  Tidger  bit  her  lip  and  shook  her  head 
at  him  scornfully.  "In  plain  English,  Tidger, 
as  plain  as  I  can  speak  it,"  'she  said, 
severely,  "they're  after  Ann  and  'er  bit  o' 
money." 

Mr.  Tidger  gazed  at  her  open-mouthed,  and 
taking  advantage  of  that  fact,  blew  out  the 


268     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

candle  to  hide  his  discomposure.  "What!"  he 
said,  blankly,  "at  'er  time  o'  life?" 

"Watch  'em  to-morrer,"  said  his  wife. 

The  carpenter  acted  upon  his  instructions, 
and  his  ire  rose  as  he  noticed  the  assiduous  at- 
tention paid  by  his  two  friends  to  the  frivolous 
Mrs.  Pullen.  Mr.  Wiggett,  a  sharp-featured 
little  man,  was  doing  most  of  the  talking,  while 
his  rival,  a  stout,  clean-shaven  man  with  a  slow, 
oxlike  eye,  looked  on  stolidly.  Mr.  Miller  was 
seldom  in  a  hurry,  and  lost  many  a  bargain 
through  his  slowness — a  fact  which  sometimes 
so  painfully  affected  the  individual  who  had 
outdistanced  him  that  he  would  offer  to  let  him 
have  it  at  a  still  lower  figure. 

"You  get  younger  than  ever,  Mrs.  Pullen," 
said  Wiggett,  the  conversation  having  turned 
upon  ages. 

"Young  ain't  the  word  for  it,"  said  Miller, 
with  a  praiseworthy  determination  not  to  be 
left  behind. 

"No;  it's  age  as  you're  thinking  of,  Mr. 
Wiggett,"  said  the  carpenter,  slowly;  "none  of 
us  gets  younger,  do  we,  Ann?" 


"YOU    GET   YOUNGER   THAN    EVER,    MRS.    PULLEN." 


A  Golden  Venture       269 

"Some  of  us  keeps  young  in  our  ways,"  said 
Mrs.  Pullen,  somewhat  shortly. 

"How  old  should  you  say  Ann  is  now?"  per- 
sisted the  watchful  Tidger. 

Mr.  Wiggett  shook  his  head.  "I  should  say 
she's  about  fifteen  years  younger  nor  me/'  he 
said,  slowly,  "and  I'm  as  lively  as  a  cricket." 

"She's  fifty-five,"  said  the  carpenter. 

"That  makes  you  seventy,  Wiggett,"  said 
Mr.  Miller,  pointedly.  "I  thought  you  was 
more  than  that.  You  look  it." 

Mr.  Wiggett  coughed  sourly.  "I'm  fifty- 
nine,"  he  growled.  "Nothing  '11  make  me  be- 
lieve as  Mrs.  Pullen  s  fifty-five,  nor  anywhere 
near  it." 

"Ho!"  said  the  carpenter,  on  his  mettle — 
"ho !  Why,  my  wife  here  was  the  sixth  child, 

and  she He  caught  a  gleam  in  the  sixth 

child's  eye,  and  expressed  her  age  with  a  cough. 
The  others  waited  politely  until  he  had  fin- 
ished, and  Mr.  Tidger,  noticing  this,  coughed 
again. 

"And  she "  prompted  Mr.  Miller,  dis- 
playing a  polite  interest, 


270    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"She  ain't  so  young  as  she  was,"  said  the 
carpenter. 

"Cares  of  a  family/'  said  Mr.  Wiggett, 
plumping  boldly.  "I  always  thought  Mrs. 
Pullen  was  younger  than  her." 

"So  did  I,"  said  Mr.  Miller,  "much 
younger." 

Mr.  Wiggett  eyed  him  sharply.  It  was 
rather  hard  to  have  Miller  hiding  his  lack  of 
invention  by  participating  in  his  compliments 
and  even  improving  upon  them.  It  was  the  way 
he  dealt  at  market — listening  to  other  dealers' 
accounts  of  their  wares,  and  adding  to  them  for 
his  own. 

"I  was  noticing  you  the  other  day,  ma'am," 
continued  Mr.  Wiggett.  "I  see  you  going  up 
the  road  with  a  step  free  and  easy  as  a  young 
girl's." 

"She  allus  walks  like  that,"  said  Mr.  Miller, 
in  a  tone  of  surprised  reproof. 

"It's  in  the  family,"  said  the  carpenter, 
who  had  been  uneasily  watching  his  wife's 
face. 

"Both  of  you  seem  to  notice  a  lot,"  said  Mrs. 
Tidger;  "much  more  than  you  used  to." 


A  Golden  Venture       271 

Mr.  Tidger,  who  was  of  a  nervous  and  sensi- 
tive disposition,  coughed  again. 

"You  ought  to  take  something  for  that 
cough,"  said  Mr.  Wiggett,  considerately. 

"Gin  and  beer/'  said  Mr.  Miller,  with  the 
air  of  a  specialist. 

"Bed's  the  best  thing  for  it,"  said  Mrs.  Tid- 
ger, whose  temper  was  beginning  to  show  signs 
of  getting  out  of  hand. 

Mr.  Tidger  rose  and  looked  awkwardly  at 
his  visitors;  Mr.  Wiggett  got  up,  and  pre- 
tending to  notice  the  time,  said  he  must  be 
going,  and  looked  at  Mr.  Miller.  That 
gentleman,  who  was  apparently  deep  in  some 
knotty  problem,  was  gazing  at  the  floor, 
and  oblivious  for  the  time  to  his  surround- 
ings. 

"Come  along,"  said  Wiggett,  with  feigned 
heartiness,  slapping  him  on  the  back. 

Mr.  Miller,  looking  for  a  moment  as  though 
he  would  like  to  return  the  compliment,  came 
back  to  everyday  life,  and  bidding  the  com- 
pany good-night,  stepped  to  the  door,  accom- 
panied by  his  rival.  It  was  immediately  shut 
with  some  violence. 


272     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"They  seem  in  a  hurry/'  said  Wiggett.  "I 
don't  think  I  shall  go  there  again." 

"I  don't  think  I  shall,"  said  Mr.  Miller. 

After  this  neither  of  them  was  surprised  to 
meet  there  again  the  next  night,  and  indeed 
for  several  nights.  The  carpenter  and  his 
wife,  who  did  not  want  the  money  to  go  out  of 
the  family,  and  were  also  afraid  of  offending 
Mrs.  Pullen,  were  at  their  wits'  end  what  to  do. 
Ultimately  it  was  resolved  that  Tidger,  in  as 
delicate  a  manner  as  possible,  was  to  hint  to 
her  that  they  were  after  her  money.  He 
was  so  vague  and  so  delicate  that  Mrs.  Pullen 
misunderstood  him,  and  fancying  that  he  was 
trying  to  borrow  half  a  crown,  made  him  a 
present  of  five  shillings. 

It  was  evident  to  the  slower-going  Mr.  Miller 
that  his  rival's  tongue  was  giving  him  an  ad- 
vantage which  only  the  ever-watchful  presence 
of  the  carpenter  and  his  wife  prevented  him 
from  pushing  to  the  fullest  advantage.  In 
these  circumstances  he  sat  for  two  hours  after 
breakfast  one  morning  in  deep  cogitation,  and 
after  six  pipes  got  up  with  a  twinkle  in  his  slow 


A  Golden  Venture       273 

eyes  which  his  brother  dealers  had  got  to  re- 
gard as  a  danger  signal. 

He  had  only  the  glimmering  of  an  idea  at 
first,  but  after  a  couple  of  pints  at  the  "Bell" 
everything  took  shape,  and  he  cast  his  eyes 
about  for  an  assistant.  They  fell  upon  a  man 
named  Smith,  and  the  dealer,  after  some 
thought,  took  up  his  glass  and  went  over  to 
him. 

"I  want  you  to  do  something  for  me,"  he 
remarked,  in  a  mysterious  voice. 

"Ah,  I've  been  wanting  to  see  you,"  said 
Smith,  who  was  also  a  dealer  in  a  small  way. 
"One  o'  them  hins  I  bought  off  you  last  week 
is  dead." 

"I'll  give  you  another  for  it,"  said  Miller. 

"And  the  others  are  so  forgetful,"  continued 
Mr.  Smith. 

"Forgetful?"  repeated  the  other. 

"Forget  to  lay,  like,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  mus- 
ingly. 

"Never  mind  about  them,"  said  Mr.  Miller, 
with  some  animation.  "I  want  you  to  do  some- 
thing for  me.  If  it  comes  off  all  right,  I'll  give 


274    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

you  a  dozen  hins  and  a  couple  of  decentish- 
sized  pigs." 

Mr.  Smith  called  a  halt.  "Decentish-sized" 
was  vague. 

"Take  your  pick,"  said  Mr.  Miller.  "You 
know  Mrs.  Pullen's  got  two  thousand 
pounds — " 

"Wiggett's  going  to  have  it,"  said  the  other; 
"he  as  good  as  told  me  so." 

"He's  after  her  money,"  said  the  other, 
sadly.  "Look  'ere,  Smith,  I  want  you  to  tell 
him  she's  lost  it  all.  Say  that  Tidger  told  you, 
but  you  wasn't  to  tell  anybody  else.  Wig- 
gett  '11  believe  you." 

Mr.  Smith  turned  upon  him  a  face  all 
wrinkles,  lit  by  one  eye.  "I  want  the  hins  and 
the  pigs  first,"  he  said,  firmly. 

Mr.  Miller,  shocked  at  his  grasping  spirit, 
stared  at  him  mournfully. 

"And  twenty  pounds  the  day  you  marry 
Mrs.  Pullen,"  continued  Mr.  Smith. 

Mr.  Miller,  leading  him  up  and  down  the 
sawdust  floor,  besought  him  to  listen  to  reason, 
and  Mr.  Smith  allowed  the  better  feelings  of 
our  common  human  nature  to  prevail  to  the 


A  Golden  Venture       275 

extent  of  reducing  his  demands  to  half  a  dozen 
fowls  on  account,  and  all  the  rest  on  the  day 
of  the  marriage.  Then,  with  the  delightful 
feeling  that  he  wouldn't  do  any  work  for  a 
week,  he  went  out  to  drop  poison  into  the  ears 
of  Mr.  Wiggett. 

"Lost  all  her  money!"  said  the  startled  Mr. 
Wiggett.  "How?" 

"I  don't  know  how,"  said  his  friend.  "Tid- 
ger  told  me,  but  made  me  promise  not  to  tell  a 
soul.  But  I  couldn't  help  telling  you,  Wiggett, 
'cause  I  know  what  you're  after." 

"Do  me  a  favour,"  said  the  little  man. 

"I  will,"  said  the  other. 

"Keep  it  from  Miller  as  long  as  possible.  If 
you  hear  any  one  else  talking  of  it,  tell  'em  to 
keep  it  from  him.  If  he  marries  her  I'll  give 
you  a  couple  of  pints." 

Mr.  Smith  promised  faithfully,  and  both  the 
Tidgers  and  Mrs.  Pullen  were  surprised  to  find 
that  Mr.  Miller  was  the  only  visitor  that  even- 
ing. He  spoke  but  little,  and  that  little  in  a 
slow,  ponderous  voice  intended  for  Mrs. 
Pullen' s  ear  alone.  He  spoke  disparagingly 
of  money,  and  shook  his  head  slowly  at  the 


276    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

temptations  it  brought  in  its  train.  Give  him 
a  crust,  he  said,  and  somebody  to  halve  it  with 
— a  home-made  crust  baked  by  a  wife.  It  was 
a  pretty  picture,  but  somewhat  spoiled  by  Mrs. 
Tidger  suggesting  that,  though  he  had  spoken 
of  halving  the  crust,  he  had  said  nothing  about 
the  beer. 

"Half  of  my  beer  wouldn't  be  much,"  said 
the  dealer,  slowly. 

"Not  the  half  you  would  give  your  wife 
wouldn't,''  retorted  Mrs.  Tidger. 

The  dealer  sighed  and  looked  mournfully  at 
Mrs.  Pullen.  The  lady  sighed  in  return,  and 
finding  that  her  admirer's  stock  of  conversa- 
tion seemed  to  be  exhausted,  coyly  suggested 
a  game  of  draughts.  The  dealer  assented  with 
eagerness,  and  declining  the  offer  of  a  glass  of 
beer  by  explaining  that  he  had  had  one  the  day 
before  yesterday,  sat  down  and  lost  seven 
games  right  off.  He  gave  up  at  the  seventh 
game,  and  pushing  back  his  chair,  said  that  he 
thought  Mrs.  Pullen  was  the  most  wonderful 
draught-player  he  had  ever  seen,  and  took  no 
notice  when  Mrs.  Tidger,  in  a  dry  voice 
charged  with  subtle  meaning,  said  that  she 
thought  he  was. 


A  Golden  Venture      277 

"Draughts  come  natural  to  some  people," 
said  Mrs.  Pullen,  modestly.  "It's  as  easy  as 
kissing  your  fingers." 

Mr.  Miller  looked  doubtful ;  then  he  put  his 
great  fingers  to  his  lips  by  way  of  experiment, 
and  let  them  fall  unmistakably  in  the  widow's 
direction.  Mrs.  Pullen  looked  down  and 
nearly  blushed.  The  carpenter  and  his  wife 
eyed  each  other  in  indignant  consternation. 

"That's  easy  enough,"  said  the  dealer,  and 
repeated  the  offense. 

Mrs.  Pullen  got  up  in  some  confusion,  and 
began  to  put  the  draught-board  away.  One 
of  the  pieces  fell  on  the  floor,  and  as  they  both 
stooped  to  recover  it  their  heads  bumped.  It 
was  nothing  to  the  dealer's,  but  Mrs.  Pullen 
rubbed  hers  and  sat  down  with  her  eyes  water- 
ing. Mr.  Miller  took  out  his  handkerchief, 
and  going  to  the  scullery,  dipped  it  into  water 
and  held  it  to  her  head. 

"Is  it  better?"  he  inquired. 

"A  little  better,"  said  the  victim,  with  a 
shiver. 

Mr.  Miller,  in  his  emotion,  was  squeezing 
the  handkerchief  hard,  and  a  cold  stream  was 
running  down  her  neck. 


278     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

'Thank  you.     It's  all  right  now." 

The  dealer  replaced  the  handkerchief,  and 
sat  for  some  time  regarding  her  earnestly. 
Then  the  carpenter  and  his  wife  displaying 
manifest  signs  of  impatience,  he  took  his  de- 
parture, after  first  inviting  himself  for  another 
game  of  draughts  the  following  night. 

He  walked  home  with  the  air  of  a  conqueror, 
and  thought  exultingly  that  the  two  thousand 
pounds  were  his.  It  was  a  deal  after  his  own 
heart,  and  not  the  least  satisfactory  part  about 
it  was  the  way  he  had  got  the  better  of  Wig- 
gett. 

He  completed  his  scheme  the  following  day 
after  a  short  interview  with  the  useful  Smith. 
By  the  afternoon  Wiggett  found  that  his  ex- 
clusive information  was  common  property,  and 
all  Thatcham  was  marvelling  at  the  fortitude 
with  which  Mrs.  Pullen  was  bearing  the  loss  of 
her  fortune. 

With  a  view  of  being  out  of  the  way  when 
the  denial  was  published,  Mr.  Miller,  after 
loudly  expressing  in  public  his  sympathy  for 
Mrs.  Pullen  and  his  admiration  of  her  quali- 
ties, drove  over  with  some  pigs  to  a  neighbour- 


A  Golden  Venture      279 

ing  village,  returning  to  Thatcham  in  the 
early  evening.  Then  hurriedly  putting  his 
horse  up  he  made  his  way  to  the  car- 
penter's. 

The  Tidgers  were  at  home  when  he  entered, 
and  Mrs.  Pullen  flushed  faintly  as  he  shook 
hands. 

"I  was  coming  in  before,"  he  said,  impress- 
ively, "after  what  I  heard  this  afternoon,  but 
I  had  to  drive  over  to  Thorpe." 

"You  'card  it?"  inquired  the  carpenter,  in 
an  incredulous  voice. 

"Certainly,"  said  the  dealer,  "and  very  sorry 
I  was.  Sorry  for  one  thing,  but  glad  for  an- 
other." 

The  carpenter  opened  his  mouth  and  seemed 
about  to  speak.  Then  he  checked  himself  sud- 
denly and  gazed  with  interest  at  the  ingenuous 
dealer. 

"I'm  glad,"  said  Mr.  Miller,  slowly,  as 
he  nodded  at  a  friend  of  Mrs.  Tidger's 
who  had  just  come  in  with  a  long  face, 
"because  now  that  Mrs.  Pullen  is  poor, 
I  can  say  to  her  what  I  couldn't  say  while  she 
was  rich." 


280    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

Again  the  astonished  carpenter  was  about 
to  speak,  but  the  dealer  hastily  checked  him 
with  his  hand. 

"One  at  a  time,"  he  said.  "Mrs.  Pullen,  I 
was  very  sorry  to  hear  this  afternoon,  for  your 
sake,  that  you  had  lost  all  your  money.  What 
I  wanted  to  say  to  you  now,  now  that  you  are 
poor,  was  to  ask  you  to  be  Mrs.  Miller.  What 
d'ye  say  ?" 

Mrs.  Pullen,  touched  at  so  much  goodness, 
wept  softly  and  said,  "Yes."  The  triumphant 
Miller  took  out  his  handkerchief — the  same 
that  he  had  used  the  previous  night,  for  he  was 
not  an  extravagant  man — >and  tenderly  wiped 
her  eyes. 

"Well,  I'm  blowed!"  said  the  staring  carpen- 
ter. 

"I've  got  a  nice  little  'ouse,"  continued  the 
wily  Mr.  Miller.  "It's  a  poor  place,  but  nice, 
and  we'll  play  draughts  every  evening.  When 
shall  it  be?" 

"When  you  like,"  said  Mrs.  Pullen,  in  a  faint 
voice. 

"I'll  put  the  banns  up  to-morrow,"  said  the 
dealer. 


A  Golden  Venture      281 

Mrs.  Tidger' s  lady  friend  giggled  at  so  much 
haste,  but  Mrs.  Tidger,  who  felt  that  she  had 
misjudged  him,  was  touched. 

"It  does  you  credit,  Mr.  Miller,"  she  said, 
warmly. 

"No,  no,"  said  the  dealer;  and  then  Mr. 
Tidger  got  up,  and  crossing  the  room,  solemnly 
shook  hands  with  him. 

"Money  or  no  money,  she'll  make  a  good 
wrife,"  he  said. 

"I'm  glad  you're  pleased,"  said  the  dealer, 
wondering  at  this  cordiality. 

"I  don't  deny  I  thought  you  was  after  her 
money,"  continued  the  carpenter,  solemnly. 
"My  missus  thought  so,  too." 

Mr.  Miller  shook  his  head,  and  said  he 
thought  they  would  have  known  him  better. 

"Of  course  it  is  a  great  loss,"  said  the  car- 
penter. "Money  is  money." 

"That's  all  it  is,  though,"  said  the  slightly 
mystified  Mr.  Miller. 

"What  I  can't  understand  is,"  continued  the 
carpenter,  "  'ow  the  news  got  about.  Why,  the 
neighbours  knew  of  it  a  couple  of  hours  before 
we  did." 


282    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

The  dealer  hid  a  grin.  Then  he  looked  a  bit 
bewildered  again. 

"I  assure  you,"  said  the  carpenter,  "it  was 
known  in  the  town  at  least  a  couple  of  hours 
before  we  got  the  letter." 

Mr.  Miller  waited  a  minute  to  get  perfect 
control  over  his  features.  "Letter?"  he  re- 
peated, faintly. 

"The  letter  from  the  lawyers,"  said  the  car- 
penter. 

Mr.  Miller  was  silent  again.  His  features 
were  getting  tiresome.  He  eyed  the  door  fur- 
tively. 

"What— was— in— the  letter?"  he  asked. 

"Short  and  sweet,"  said  the  carpenter,  with 
bitterness.  "Said  it  was  all  a  mistake,  because 
they'd  been  and  found  another  will.  People 
shouldn't  make  such  mistakes." 

"We're  all  liable  to  make  mistakes,"  said 
Miller,  thinking  he  saw  an  opening. 

"Yes,  we  made  a  mistake  when  we  thought 
you  was  after  Ann's  money,"  assented  the  car- 
penter. "I'm  sure  I  thought  you'd  be  the  last 
man  in  the  world  to  be  pleased  to  hear  that 
she'd  lost  it.  One  thing  is,  you've  got  enough 
for  both." 


WE'LL  LEAVE  YOU  TWO  YOUNG  THINGS  ALONE." 


A  Golden  Venture      283 

Mr.  Miller  made  no  reply,  but  in  a  dazed 
way  strove  to  realize  the  full  measure  of  the 
misfortune  which  had  befallen  him.  The 
neighbour,  with  the  anxiety  of  her  sex  to  be  the 
first  with  a  bit  of  news,  had  already  taken  her 
departure.  He  thought  of  Wiggett  walking 
the  earth  a  free  man,  and  of  Smith  with  a  three- 
months'  bill  for  twenty  pounds.  His  pride  as 
a  dealer  was  shattered  beyond  repair,  and 
emerging  from  a  species  of  mist,  he  became 
conscious  that  the  carpenter  was  addressing 
him. 

"We'll  leave  you  two  young  things  alone  for 
a  bit,"  said  Mr.  Tidger,  heartily.  "We're  go- 
ing out.  When  you're  tired  o'  courting  you 
can  play  draughts,  and  Ann  will  show  you  one 
or  two  of  'er  moves.  So  long." 


Three  at  Table 


THREE  AT  TABLE 

THE  talk  in  the  coffee-room  had  been  of 
ghosts  and  apparitions,  and  nearly  everybody 
present  had  contributed  his  mite  to  the  stock  of 
information  upon  a  hazy  and  somewhat  thread- 
bare subject.  Opinions  ranged  from  rank  in- 
credulity to  childlike  faith,  one  believer  going 
so  far  as  to  denounce  unbelief  as  impious,  with 
a  reference  to  the  Witch  of  Endor.  which 
was  somewhat  marred  by  being  complicated  in 
an  inexplicable  fashion  with  the  story  of  Jonah. 

"Talking  of  Jonah,"  he  said  solemnly,  with  a 
happy  disregard  of  the  fact  that  he  had  declined 
to  answer  several  eager  questions  put  to  him  on 
the  subject,  "look  at  the  strange  tales  sailors 
tell  us." 

"I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  believe  all  those," 
said  a  bluff,  clean-shaven  man,  who  had  been 
listening  without  speaking  much.  "You  see 
when  a  sailor  gets  ashore  he's  expected  to 


288    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

have  something  to  tell,  and  his  friends  would 
be  rather  disappointed  if  he  had  not." 

"It's  a  well-known  fact,"  interrupted  the  first 
speaker  firmly,  "that  sailors  are  very  prone  to 


see  visions." 


"They  are,"  said  the  other  dryly,  "they  gen- 
erally see  them  in  pairs,  and  the  shock  to  the 
nervous  system  frequently  causes  headache 
next  morning." 

"You  never  saw  anything  yourself?"  sug- 
gested an  unbeliever. 

"Man  and  boy,"  said  the  other,  "I've  been  at 
sea  thirty  years,  and  the  only  unpleasant  inci- 
dent of  that  kind  occurred  in  a  quiet  English 
countryside." 

"And  that?"  said  another  man. 

"I  was  a  young  man  at  the  time,"  said  the 
narrator,  drawing  at  his  pipe  and  glancing 
good-humour edly  at  the  company.  "I  had  just 
come  back  from  China,  and  my  own  people 
being  away  I  went  down  into  the  country  to 
invite  myself  to  stay  with  an  uncle.  When  I 
got  down  to  the  place  I  found  it  closed  and  the 
family  in  the  South  of  France;  but  as  they 
were  due  back  in  a  couple  of  days  I  decided  to 


Three  at  Table         289 

put  up  at  the  Royal  George,  a  very  decent  inn, 
and  await  their  return. 

"The  first  day  I  passed  well  enough ;  but  in 
the  evening  the  dulness  of  the  rambling  old 
place,  in  which  I  was  the  only  visitor,  began  to 
weigh  upon  my  spirits,  and  the  next  morning 
after  a  late  breakfast  I  set  out  with  the  inten- 
tion of  having  a  brisk  day's  walk. 

"I  started  off  in  excellent  spirits,  for  the  day 
was  bright  and  frosty,  with  a  powdering  of 
snow  on  the  iron-bound  roads  and  nipped 
hedges,  and  the  country  had  to  me  all  the 
charm  of  novelty.  It  was  certainly  flat,  but 
there  was  plenty  of  timber,  and  the  villages 
through  which  I  passed  were  old  and  pic- 
turesque. 

"I  lunched  luxuriously  on  bread  and  cheese 
and  beer  in  the  bar  of  a  small  inn,  and  resolved 
to  go  a  little  further  before  turning  back. 
When  at  length  I  found  I  had  gone  far  enough, 
I  turned  up  a  lane  at  right  angles  to  the  road 
I  was  passing,  and  resolved  to  find  my  way 
back  by  another  route.  It  is  a  long  lane  that 
has  no  turning,  but  this  had  several,  each  of 
which  had  turnings  of  its  own,  which  generally 


290    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

led,  as  I  found  by  trying  two  or  three  of  them, 
into  the  open  marshes.  Then,  tired  of  lanes,  I 
resolved  to  rely  upon  the  small  compass  which 
hung  from  my  watch  chain  and  go  across  coun- 
try home. 

"I  had  got  well  into  the  marshes  when  a 
white  fog,  which  had  been  for  some  time  hov- 
ering round  the  edge  of  the  ditches,  began 
gradually  to  spread.  There  was  no  escaping 
it,  but  by  aid  of  my  compass  I  was  saved  from 
making  a  circular  tour  and  fell  instead  into 
frozen  ditches  or  stumbled  over  roots  in  the 
grass.  I  kept  my  course,  however,  until  at 
four  o'clock,  when  night  was  coming  rapidly 
up  to  lend  a  hand  to  the  fog,  I  was  fain  to  con- 
fess myself  lost. 

"The  compass  was  now  no  good  to  me,  and  I 
wandered  about  miserably,  occasionally  giving 
a  shout  on  the  chance  of  being  heard  by  some 
passing  shepherd  or  farmhand.  At  length  by 
great  good  luck  I  found  my  feet  on  a  rough 
road  driven  through  the  marshes,  and  by  walk- 
ing slowly  and  tapping  with  my  stick  managed 
to  keep  to  it.  I  had  followed  it  for  some  dis- 
tance when  I  heard  footsteps  approaching  me. 


Three  at  Table         291 

"We  stopped  as  we  met,  and  the  new  arrival, 
a  sturdy-looking  countryman,  hearing  of  my 
plight,  walked  back  with  me  for  nearly  a  mile, 
and  putting  me  on  to  a  road  gave  me  minute 
instructions  how  to  reach  a  village  some  three 
miles  distant. 

"I  was  so  tired  that  three  miles  sounded  like 
ten,  and  besides  that,  a  little  way  off  from  the 
road  I  saw  dimly  a  lighted  window.  I  pointed 
it  out,  but  my  companion  shuddered  and  looked 
round  him  uneasily. 

"  'You  won't  get  no  good  there,'  he  said, 
hastily. 

"Why  not?'  I  asked. 

"  'There's  a  something  there,  sir,'  he  replied, 
'what  'tis  I  dunno,  but  the  little  'un  belonging 
to  a  gamekeeper  as  used  to  live  in  these  parts 
see  it,  and  it  was  never  much  good  afterward. 
Some  say  as  it's  a  poor  mad  thing,  others  says 
as  it's  a  kind  of  animal;  but  whatever  it  is,  it 
ain't  good  to  see.' 

"  Well,  I'll  keep  on,  then,'  I  said.  'Good- 
night.' 

"He  went  back  whistling  cheerily  until  his 
footsteps  died  away  in  the  distance,  and  I  fol- 


292    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

lowed  the  road  he  had  indicated  until  it  divided 
into  three,  any  one  of  which  to  a  stranger 
might  be  said  to  lead  straight  on.  I  was  now 
cold  and  tired,  and  having  half  made  up  my 
mind  walked  slowly  back  toward  the  house. 

"At  first  all  I  could  see  of  it  was  the  little 
patch  of  light  at  the  window.  I  made  for  that 
until  it  disappeared  suddenly,  and  I  found  my- 
self walking  into  a  tall  hedge.  I  felt  my  way 
round  this  until  I  came  to  a  small  gate,  and 
opening  it  cautiously,  walked,  not  without 
some  little  nervousness,  up  a  long  path  which 
led  to  the  door.  There  was  no  light  and  no 
sound  from  within.  Half  repenting  of  my 
temerity  I  shortened  my  stick  and  knocked 
lightly  upon  the  door. 

"I  waited  a  couple  of  minutes  and  then 
knocked  again,  and  my  stick  was  still  beating 
the  door  when  it  opened  suddenly  and  a  tall 
bony  old  woman,  holding  a  candle,  confronted 
me. 

"  'What  do  you  want  ?'  she  demanded 
gruffly. 

"  'I've  lost  my  way/  I  said,  civilly ;  'I  want 
to  get  to  Ashville.' 


Three  at  Table         293 

"  'Don't  know  it/  said  the  old  woman. 

"She  was  about  to  close  the  door  when  a  man 
emerged  from  a  room  at  the  side  of  the  hall  and 
came  toward  us.  An  old  man  of  great  height 
and  breadth  of  shoulder. 

"  'Ashville  is  fifteen  miles  distant/  he  said 
slowly. 

"  'If  you  will  direct  me  to  the  nearest  village, 
I  shall  be  grateful/  I  remarked. 

"He  made  no  reply,  but  exchanged  a  quick, 
furtive  glance  with  the  woman.  She  made  a 
gesture  of  dissent. 

"  'The  nearest  place  is  three  miles  off/  he 
said,  turning  to  me  and  apparently  trying  to 
soften  a  naturally  harsh  voice ;  'if  you  will 
give  me  the  pleasure  of  your  company,  I  will 
make  you  as  comfortable  as  I  can/ 

"I  hesitated.  They  were  certainly  a  queer- 
looking  couple,  and  the  gloomy  hall  with  the 
shadows  thrown  by  the  candle  looked  hardly 
more  inviting  than  the  darkness  outside. 

"  'You  are  very  kind/  I  murmured,  irreso- 
lutely, 'but ' 

"  'Come  in/  he  said  quickly ;  'shut  the  door, 
Anne/  u  2 


294     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"Almost  before  I  knew  it  I  was  standing  in- 
side and  the  old  woman,  muttering  to  herself, 
had  closed  the  door  behind  me.  With  a  queer 
sensation  of  being  trapped  I  followed  my  host 
into  the  room,  and  taking  the  proffered  chair 
warmed  my  frozen  fingers  at  the  fire. 

"  'Dinner  will  soon  be  ready/  said  the  old 
man,  regarding  me  closely.  'If  you  will  ex- 
cuse me ' 

"I  bowed  and  he  left  the  room.  A  minute 
afterward  I  heard  voices;  his  and  the  old 
woman's,  and,  I  fancied,  a  third.  Before  I 
had  finished  my  inspection  of  the  room  he  re- 
turned, and  regarded  me  with  the  same  strange 
look  I  had  noticed  before. 

"  'There  will  be  three  of  us  at  dinner/  he 
said,  at  length.  'We  two  and  my  son/ 

"I  bowed  again,  and  secretly  hoped  that  that 
look  didn't  run  in  the  family. 

"  'I  suppose  you  don't  mind  dining  in  the 
dark/  he  said,  abruptly. 

"  'Not  at  all/  I  replied,  hiding  my  surprise  as 
well  as  I  could,  'but  really  I'm  afraid  I'm  in- 
truding. If  you'll  allow  me ' 

"He  waved  his  huge  gaunt  hands.     'We're 


Three  at  Table         295 

not  going  to  lose  you  now  we've  got  you/  he 
said,  with  a  dry  laugh.  It's  seldom  we  have 
company,  and  now  we've  got  you  we'll  keep 
you.  My  son's  eyes  are  bad,  and  he  can't 
stand  the  light.  Ah,  here  is  Anne.' 

"As  he  spoke  the  old  woman  entered,  and, 
eyeing  me  stealthily,  began  to  lay  the  cloth, 
while  my  host,  taking  a  chair  the  other  side  of 
the  hearth,  sat  looking  silently  into  the  fire. 
The  table  set,  the  old  woman  brought  in  a  pair 
of  fowls  ready  carved  in  a  dish,  and  placing 
three  chairs,  left  the  room.  The  old  man  hesi- 
tated a  moment,  and  then,  rising  from  his  chair, 
placed  a  large  screen  in  front  of  the  fire  and 
slowly  extinguished  the  candles. 

"  'Blind  man's  holiday,'  he  said,  with  clumsy 
jocosity,  and  groping  his  way  to  the  door 
opened  it.  Somebody  came  back  into  the  room 
with  him,  and  in  a  slow,  uncertain  fashion  took 
a  seat  at  the  table,  and  the  strangest  voice  I 
have  ever  heard  broke  a  silence  which  was  fast 
becoming  oppressive. 

"  'A  cold  night,'  it  said  slowly. 

"I  replied  in  the  affirmative,  and  light  or  no 
light,  fell  to  with  an  appetite  which  had  only 


296    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

been  sharpened  by  the  snack  in  the  middle  of 
the  day.  It  was  somewhat  difficult  eating  in 
the  dark,  and  it  was  evident  from  the  behaviour 
of  my  invisible  companions  that  they  were  as 
unused  to  dining  under  such  circumstances  as 
I  was.  We  ate  in  silence  until  the  old  woman 
blundered  into  the  room  with  some  sweets  and 
put  them  with  a  crash  upon  the  table. 

"  'Are  you  a  stranger  about  here?'  inquired 
the  curious  voice  again. 

"I  replied  in  the  affirmative,  and  murmured 
something  about  my  luck  in  stumbling  upon 
such  a  good  dinner. 

1  'Stumbling  is  a  very  good  word  for  it/ 
said  the  voice  grimly.  'You  have  forgotten  the 
port,  father/ 

"  'So  I  have,'  said  the  old  man,  rising.  'It's 
a  bottle  of  the  "Celebrated"  to-day;  I  will  get 
it  myself.' 

"He  felt  his  way  to  the  door,  and  clos- 
ing it  behind  him,  left  me  alone  with  my 
unseen  neighbour.  There  was  something 
so  strange  about  the  whole  business  that 
I  must  confess  to  more  than  a  slight  feel- 
ing of  uneasiness. 


Three  at  Table         297 

"My  host  seemed  to  be  absent  a  long  time. 
I  heard  the  man  opposite  lay  down  his  fork  and 
spoon,  and  half  fancied  I  could  see  a  pair  of 
wild  eyes  shining  through  the  gloom  like  a 
cat's. 

"With  a  growing  sense  of  uneasiness  I 
pushed  my  chair  back.  It  caught  the  hearth- 
rug, and  in  my  efforts  to  disentangle  it  the 
screen  fell  over  with  a  crash  and  in  the  flicker- 
ing light  of  the  fire  I  saw  the  face  of  the  crea- 
ture opposite.  With  a  sharp  catch  of  my 
breath  I  left  my  chair  and  stood  with  clenched 
fists  beside  it.  Man  or  beast,  which  was  it? 
The  flame  leaped  up  and  then  went  out,  and  in 
the  mere  red  glow  of  the  fire  it  looked  more 
devilish  than  before. 

"For  a  few  moments  we  regarded  each  other 
in  silence;  then  the  door  opened  and  the  old 
man  returned.  He  stood  aghast  as  he  saw  the 
warm  firelight,  and  then  approaching  the  table 
mechanically  put  down  a  couple  of  bottles. 

"  *I  beg  your  pardon,'  said  I,  reassured  by 
his  presence,  'but  I  have  accidentally  over- 
turned the  screen.  Allow  me  to  replace  it.' 

"  'No,'  said  the  old  man,  gently,  'let  it  be. 


298    The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

We  have  had  enough  of  the  dark.  I'll  give 
you  a  light.' 

"He  struck  a  match  and  slowly  lit  the 
candles.  Then  I  saw  that  the  man  opposite 
had  but  the  remnant  of  a  face,  a  gaunt  wolfish 
face  in  which  one  unquenched  eye,  the  sole  re- 
maining feature,  still  glittered.  I  was  greatly 
moved,  some  suspicion  of  the  truth  occurring 
to  me. 

"  'My  son  was  injured  some  years  ago  in  a 
burning  house/  said  the  old  man.  'Since  then 
we  have  lived  a  very  retired  life.  When  you 

came  to  the  door  we '  his  voice  trembled, 

'that  is — my  son ' 

"  'I  thought,''  said  the  son  simply,  'that  it 
would  be  better  for  me  not  to  come  to  the  din- 
ner-table. But  it  happens  to  be  my  birthday, 
and  my  father  would  not  hear  of  my  dining 
alone,  so  we  hit  upon  this  foolish  plan  of  dining 
in  the  dark.  I'm  sorry  I  startled  you.' 

"  'I  am  sorry,'  said  I,  as  I  reached  across  the 
table  and  gripped  his  hand,  'that  I  am  such  a 
fool;  but  it  was  only  in  the  dark  that  you 
startled  me.' 

"From  a  faint  tinge  in  the  old  man's  cheek 


Three  at  Table         299 

and  a  certain  pleasant  softening  of  the  poor 
solitary  eye  in  front  of  me  I  secretly  congratu- 
lated myself  upon  this  last  remark. 

"  'We  never  see  a  friend/  said  the  old  man, 
apologetically,  'and  the  temptation  to  have  com- 
pany was  too  much  for  us.  Besides,  I  don't 
know  what  else  you  could  have  done/ 

"  'Nothing  else  half  so  good,  I'm  sure/ 
said  I. 

"  'Come/  said  my  host,  with  almost  a 
sprightly  air.  'Now  we  know  each  other, 
draw  your  chairs  to  the  fire  and  let's  keep  this 
birthday  in  a  proper  fashion/ 

"He  drew  a  small  table  to  the  fire  for  the 
glasses  and  produced  a  box  of  cigars,  and  plac- 
ing a  chair  for  the  old  servant,  sternly  bade  her 
to  sit  down  and  drink.  If  the  talk  was  not 
sparkling,  it  did  not  lack  for  vivacity,  and  we 
were  soon  as  merry  a  party  as  I  have  ever  seen. 
The  night  wore  on  so  rapidly  that  we  could 
hardly  believe  our  ears  when  in  a  lull  in  the 
conversation  a  clock  in  the  hall  struck  twelve. 

'  'A  last  toast  before  we  retire/  said  my  host, 
pitching  the  end  of  his  cigar  into  the  fire  and 
turning  to  the  small  table. 


300     The  Lady  of  the  Barge 

"We  had  drunk  several  before  this,  but  there 
was  something  impressive  in  the  old  man's 
manner  as  he  rose  and  took  up  his  glass.  His 
tall  figure  seemed  to  get  taller,  and  his  voice 
rang  as  he  gazed  proudly  at  his  disfigured  son. 

"  'The  health  of  the  children  my  boy  saved !' 
he  said,  and  drained  his  glass  at  a  draught." 

THE    END. 


LONDON  :  PRINTED  BY  WILLIAM  CLOWES  AND  SONS,  LIMITED, 
DUKE  STREET,  STAMFORD  STREET,  S.E.,  AND  GREAT  WINDMILL  STREET,   W 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SANTA  CRUZ 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  DATE  stamped  below. 


Om-12,'70(Pl251s8)2373-3A,l 


PR4821.J2L2  1902 


3  2106  00194  2348 


